Red Fudge

There would be an instance where
I might be propelled inside of a vessel
the thin membrane holding me
in such a bright place jamming
my way through a jam session
looking for a drawer that I can go through
because I was looking for an old note
or something, something I keep
there that reminds me to remember
but I can't find it, nor the drawing
or anything that reminds me of anything.
A postcard from someplace I've never been
a piece of firm paper without visiting
anywhere but Brooklyn my heart is red fudge
musty slop and sludge but it can move
from place to place making blood
go around and around my body moving
through space it can do that at least
I have that.