Look Sharp

Blurred memories have had alcohol’s
wet finger applied to chalky images.
It’s not sure if Tommo slept
with a transsexual before
transgendered days in
Hamburg or Copenhagen.
Nor is it known just where we
found Madam Xi Bong’s bordello
behind British Military HQ
in the shadow of the Glockenturm
and Adolf and Jesse’s Olympic
colosseum.

The people are sharp
but the backgrounds aren’t;
at least in memory’s eye.
But now at rare reunions
we know the reverse is true:
we are blurred by age against
a cruelly defined present.