Glass Poetry Press

Volume One Issue Two

Todd Heldt

The Problem with Memory

I want to say I remember someone who bought a book at a reading, who was sitting by the window, who had dark hair, and whom I wanted to buy a beer but couldn't, and whose book I stuffed with a few pages of new work I had read, and whom I did not know, and so assumed was in from out of town, and if I recall, I decided to stop smoking or start smoking again, and I read the new poem about what Tom Ridge called the Hard Orange Alert because they were in the middle of a war and needed something between highly alarmed and run for your fucking lives, because they wanted us scared enough to be docile but not so scared we would stop buying hummers, and the wind that night made me feel like death was a thousand miles away as I walked out of the bar with her ten dollars in my pocket, and looked for her, though she had gone by then, and I wondered which way she had walked and if I'd see her on the way to the train.