the guy doesn’t remember
committing the crime
beaning the old man
taking the car
seeing the device
idly turning it on
being on another planet
wanting to go home

the police don’t remember
catching the guy
one minute cruising
sketchy part of town
the next at the station
in a scuffle with aw-shit-
whathefuck-is-it?!
grab its head!

the old man doesn’t remember
many things
but he remembers
the guy as a boy
mowing yards in the neighborhood
freckles on his face
always looking up and grinning
when anyone passed by

captain centipede can’t remember
what he is–could be the guy
or the old man
a lawnmower a car a house
all he knows is every part of him
is beautiful and there’s
no one else like him
in the universe