I’ll ask her later

in bed

in my boxers

drinking a beer

with

Knut Hamsun

clothes that need to be folded

and

a finished City Paper crossword

listening to

George Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue”

wondering:

what would my mother think of me?

I am

starting to

forget my mother:

does that bother her as much as it

bothers

me?