I Remember (Sorry It's Late)

I remember talking without speaking in the split level, sea level house in Montgomery I call home.

I remember hearing the musical call and response of "clang" and "wip" at the Drop Inn from the tray cleaners.

I remember smelling skin, wood, and Chianti in my new home in Wyoming I will soon, for myself, call home.

I remember thinking about the ugly word ”poverty" at the Drop Inn while I handed Styrofoam cups filled with water to members of my group.

I remember talking to my dad in the mahogany and silver kitchen and not even caring about what is able to be recycled as the wall reverberated trust.

I remember being at the Drop Inn with people of all different colors, and sports coats shuffling through the dinner line, business as usual.

I remember calling my girlfriend Carrie on the Westside and surprising her where she worked at BW3's.