That’s what it feels like: I can’t find
enough dental floss for a dream of
jigsaw puzzles, and the raft of paper
won’t keep me afloat until I find all
my dollar bills. I have to return

eyeglasses and jazz shoes, send
a collection of bow ties. These
are days when someone wants
to take pictures of my children
and then, if I pay more, remove

my children’s imperfections
and write their names on them
(the pictures) so I don’t forget
who they are, the one who
looked like a rubber alien and

the other one who looked like
a kitten or my father. Sometimes
I forget the song while I’m still
singing it. Sometimes, you know,
I need all the help I can get.