Spheres of Influence I by Michael Prihoda

for my hometown
 when i go home it is to a town
 of made-from-scratch biscuits.
 i have memories of you
 & to prove our humanness
 please say you remember me
 & care enough to ask how
 i met my wife beyond
 your confines.
 of all the names i translated
 into foreignness
 my own was first & last
 like an unwelcome face at a funeral.
 i can never unrecognized you
 for how lines became rivers,
 moved their banks, frozen in new concentrics
 in time for the season of going out.

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