No Stalgia For

See it like this
the morning where the evening
and its tendencies unravel
are relived.
If in this morning--shame
glots the chest--as if no one ever drank--evidence, evidence
if in this morning there should also be weather
then it’s already over. You’re finished, you morning
if the wind blows
across the mad rational hulk of your buildings
the non-human context of your beach silence,
coming from nowhere to nowhere

—see, like this

and if not? Still missing Them
things about them times with
their families
-- ah god--
everything gets tossed, it’s the commerce of just
the lowest prices