some days, I walk down the street like everyone else     bundling my coat close to my neck waiting for the stoplight to turn “some weather we’re having” “isn’t that right” “in my day, autumn was never this chilly”   some days, I go through the motions   scribbling my name hastily across a paper filling in bubbles, a code I can’t decipher “as you can see in figure a” “so this study clearly shows” which is better, one or two one or two one or two one or two— one or—   some days, I give in to forgetting   a whisper in my ear says, there is enough time – just rest my nails, chipped, ragged there are still many years to go splintered edges against rawed stone you…