Daily Archives: October 29, 2017


I remember when Missing photos were on milk cartons.
I memorized their features over Life
in a bowl, with milk. Outfits too,
as if I’d recognize them in their picture day clothes

on my street.

If the (Missing) time was long,
there would be two pictures.
One familiar, one not quite right.
Computer-aged, a little off.

I would study both, and try to crack the code.

How can a computer know the intentions of a cheekbone, when love will shape a jawline, or loss will pull at eyelids?

How can it predict when eleven years of freckles might multiply in scattered paths across a nose? How disease will redraw hairlines and recovery (could) redraw them yet again?

For years, (Four years),
and we’ve seen her in the sky and the stars and the sea –
don’t get me wrong

they are lovely, all three.

I just want to see fifteen.
For a moment, over breakfast.
Computer-aged, a little off.
This kind of Missing should qualify.