Status Updates From Modern Poetry

have only read the first poem so far but it knocked the wind out of me. lfg

To return
to the world, I must learn
how to love the world again. My problem
is with the word again. I don’t like repeat
performances. I come from a long line
of hungry people who hate leftovers.

What can memory be in these terrible times?
Only instruction. Not a dwelling.

Or if you must dwell:
The sweet smell of warm weeds then.
The sweet smell of warm weeds now.
An endurance. A standoff. A rest

I like it, though I can’t explain why