Passing the American graveyard, for my birthday br the crosses stuttering, white on tropical green, br the years’ quick focus of faces I do not remember . . . br br br The palm trees stalking like deliberate giants br for my birthday, and all the hot adolescent memories br seen through a screen of water . . . br br br For my birthday thrust into the adult and actual: br expected to perform the action, not to ponder br the reality beyond the fact, br the man standing upright in the dream.