Tomato Sauce
it began with a jar of tomato sauce,
with forgetting her favorite brand;
was it Barilla or Newman’s Own?
something plucked
her
memory off
the vines in her brain;
something skinned
her scrapbook,
made it sour
perhaps it was dawn
that dissolved her details,
or maybe even god
that got ahold of her
glands and stuffed
them inside a
genie’s bottle
soon, her mind will lose
the sizzle of
hash browns on the stove &
the succulence of
hemingway’s words on paper
soon,
the sentences inside
her brain will
become blistered
& acidic
but for now,
it’s only
a jar of tomato sauce