Where did all the foxes go? I haven’t seen as many since I came home. My neighbor says they moved on, bowed out and “sang their swan song” Left only empty burrows Like tiny wordless poems I miss the sound of their mischief in the middle of the night I wish that I could turn back the hands of time But I am, Falling by the wayside Falling by the wayside Washed out with the low tide I’m wastewater & bromides Swept away like dust under the rug Because no one wants to tell me The foxes are probably dead & buried alone oh When did Alexander’s close? Remember how Rafael would practically float With every toss of my hair, Johanna’s puppy dog stare “Italian on a round roll Hold the tomatoes” I still smell the fresh quesitos, that he snuck me for my mom. I wish that I could stop life from moving on. But I am, falling by the wayside falling by the wayside Smashed into the midnight I’m police lights & chalk outlines Locked up & left to slowly wither Inside a fading picture Of when I was young & dumb and not alone oh I’m just falling… Where did all the foxes go? When did Alexander’s close? Why was i the last to know?
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