Story of My Life

there’s never enough numbers
in dreams, accounting or dances
we are poor so safe from squander
pass in public jamaican dayplanners
full of old boots on the ground
i was there, so it’s true
before we compete for light in the sky
rage will live with rages
to spite ten or twenty anniversaries
corks undone three thousand or so feet up
with gloved keys or factories of invention
the only plot is nurturing
by nature of my gross enabler
fabled fate for the king of mice