Childhood trains us/to expect the great ocean/of time around us, /endless, and always more/of it rolling in and away. /... There will always be/another and a next/and an after, even if we/are unable to know about it.---From “After After” by Hannah Stephenson, The Storialist, 07-21-11
After after, is there anything or anyone left
to sing the hammock songs? After after
will you still be there waiting, a warm blanket
in your hands, to throw the flannel on my lap,
lest I drool myself to a sundown slumber
and promptly forget it gets cold in the winter?
Aiee, amor mio, despues de nuestros amores,*
when love is gone, after all the countless days,
where shall we find that place called after?
If it is lost, too, will there always be another?
---Albert B. Casuga
*O, my beloved, after all our loves and loving,