“Redundancy defines our age.”

(Elegy for a Saturday Night)

A document is missing. It
Is everything. With barely three
Dimensions (it is razor thin)
It occupies a spot of great
Importance in my current state
Of mind. It has been shuffled in
Or shuffled out. One minute, it
Was here. Or where it seemed to be,

But wasn’t. It is missing. It
Is anything, a cancelled check,
A business card, a ticket, it
Was just right there. The image keeps
Appearing in my memory
But not my eyes. I am a wreck.
I’ve searched my pockets carefully,
And thumbed through thousands of receipts.

A document is missing. It
Is all I need. My kingdom for
A document! I’d give my arm
To have this page. The seventh time
I search this shelf may be the charm–
It’s not. I’ll check my jacket. Shit.
It’s empty, as before, and I’m
A jackass, if we’re keeping score.

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