in the night, calls permit me forget
I am a man. talk to the animals in clicks
in finger snaps. we move different. that
cold air whistles and guffaws. the dogs
and me we about our business of being
awake but not. this business of forgetting
one is a man an unlearning an embrace
of the body machine a carrier an engine
in the twilight of the morning of the final
day of the year. mileage and memory
and the new day calls in clicks in whistles.
echo? save words for when necessary.