quickly the teeth grind show

LET ME KNOW something ABOUT FORGETTING
LET THE sparrow
be my witness
to the slow spring of mid June
and the collapsing future's fall
an autumn so hue golden
that this now spring dies
like the shadow of AN empty glove,
like a town disappearing in to
its own population, watch the dog on the chain the
fortunate one that remembers nothing
clinging though to
each moment as it is jumping
down.