A good October for maples—it must have been.
I did not think: next October will be faded.
I thought: this is October in this town.
Kitchen staff skateboarded the two a.m. parking spots
of the restaurant that would be sued out of the next year.
My friend had so much furniture (she admitted)
that she had not vacuumed since moving in.
Only happy sounds rang up the pipes
from the apartment she would vacate by spring
I was already planning poorly for,
in a red chair on a Friday with no parties,
taking a mood for an era.