he mapped
his future
out
in the tire
tread of
a dusty
road

but then the
rains came
and
washed this
future
clean

he had
no choice
but to
stop

tabula rasa

he wouldn't
sell pressure gauges
for a
living

he wouldn't
meet that
girl
who was
drunk and
wore a hat
too big
for her

he wouldn't
plunge his
arm in the
water
retrieving
a
watch lost
while
ice fishing

his car
keys
scrapping
against
ice

his nose
pressed
to the ground

and
he wouldn't
need
a haircut
every second
tuesday

listening
to his barber
tell stories about
The
Lebanon
and wondering
why he kept
returning

instead
he
stood
and watched
water
seep into
fence
posts

pale colors
becoming...