Hey, whatever happened
To the scary finger-puppets I bought in Cuzco?
Where’s the girl who loved my hairy balls?

Where did Dad go with his soft hands
And stunning truancy from the moment?

Did Mom turn out to need
In heaven the eyes she donated to science?
And what’s this longing for an unborn sister?

And where’s my Ho Chi Minh medal anyway?

And all the juicyness of passing through,
Where can I store it now,
Me with holes in the holes of my pockets?