the alphabet backwards 

i find a car in the field. all the dogs
are barking at the sun. sometimes i pass
my elementary school. they cut down
the tree i used to climb. her limbs 
now live just segments of an earth worm.
i try to climb them. always end up falling.
tonight it is going to freeze again. it is 
too late to be freezing. all the plants
explain to me, "we are not going
to remember how to sugar." once a teacher
made us recite the alphabet backwards.
the only other time i have had to do this
was when i got in a car accident. 
my head rung like a bell. the officer asked
if i had been singing. no he meant
drinking. of course i officer i was
just swallowing as much cloud as i could.
most of my life feels like that. the discomfort 
of trying to recall what comes next. 
some people walk around abc abc abc 
& i guess that works well for them. i lose 
my way. i add another vowel. the long o
that rolls down the throat like a bald tire.
i don't think i said the order right 
to the cop. he wrote in his little
death note & drove away. all the crushed parts
of the car were on the side of the road.
it is amazing how quickly mistakes can be
hidden. the car towed into the field. 
the dogs once not my dogs became 
my dogs. when my lover isn't home
i bark with the dogs. anyone who doesn't think
dogs have language has never tried
kneeling down with them. their hot breath.
their alphabet, multi-directional. no forwards
or backwards. i think i was
meant to be a tooth if not a whole 
creature. i cannot help it. i start with "z."
the tree comes apart. the creek rises. 
the worms divide, start each their own
shiny little lives.