In this poem, all events were meant to occur in different places and at different times. I chose to present this in paragraph form, rather than a line by line, because I felt that it agglomerated these sentences into a cohesive stream of consciousness approach. While each remains temporally distinct, the continuation and flow of one line to the next related the way in which I thought of these vastly different moments. Although each memory is unique, they connect to one another in vastly different ways such that they triggered the others.
The moment between the one and the next
The door was locked and we sat in the hallway. Except for the last enclosure, he had seen everything in the zoo. I didn’t remember what my order number was, and tentatively approached the counter. A butterfly landed on his t-shirt, and I took a picture for him. When it came to my brother’s turn, he didn’t say anything. He held onto me, dancing slowly to Stairway to Heaven, closing out the night of a summer camp dance. I wanted nothing more than to do nothing. When I thought of him, sitting on a park bench, I felt contented. But when he took the drill and couldn’t find the bits, he cursed under his breath. The turkey fell out of the oven. It was Easter, but we weren’t the type for celebration. The skin on my fingers hadn’t finished healing, and the cuts were red and tender.