247 or Back VII

Wrote all our loves
on my hands -
tattooed names
on my knuckles

I only hope
I’m wrong

I’ve only seen
photos
prints
spreads
of young love

that’s all I know

like the woman said at
the market
what’s it like
for you
for you
to be young
and so stupid

and I am
just an exit sign
and some decaying
neon
some empty bar crawl
some title of a journal
and I am
some forlorn
boy by the woodpile
with all
with all
the dreams of my
loves

tattoo all my promises
of newborn cries
on my back
-
a skeletal frame of
cries and
holy dreams

where did all my children go
where did all
my children go
where did all my children go