It occurs to me that I can’t, either,
remember a single instance
in which I have made a decision.
It occurs to me like memory
does, like something I have already
experienced and must now
experience again. I am blow-drying
for a party I have decided not
to go to. And then, I’m in a living
room decorated in the style
of the twenty-first century,
surrounded by people who have
decided not to be there. It’s hard
to decide. I can’t arrive at it
through an instant, narrow it down––
It would be like combing a single hair.
