Go, bring back the worthless stick.
"Of memory," I almost added.
But she wouldn't understand, naturally.
There is the word and the thing

adhering. So far so good. 
Metaphor, drawer of drafting tools-- 
spill it on the study floor, animal says, 
that we might at least see

how an expensive ruler tastes. 
Yesterday I pissed and barked and ate 
because that's what waking means. 
Thus has God solved time

for me--here, here. What you call 
memory is a long and sweet, 
delicious crack of wood in my teeth 
I bring back and bring back and bring back.

From Gender Studies by Jeffrey Skinner. Copyright © 2002 by Jeffrey Skinner. Reprinted by permission of Miami University Press. All rights reserved.