memory is redundant. it repeats signs so a city can begin to exist.those warm triangular days amidst each other collapsed against a fever enraptured engulfedin august, in july. i keep my windows open in summer. something of a lithe spirit rushes in,explodes, contracts, ripens graves.       My father is in Kyiv — the city on the banks of a river — a mouth        Dear Father,      A gruff man tenderly stroked a feral kitten. From his guttural voice, with each inflection,softness tumbles out into the street, converging with the stamped over sidewalk.I hold your name. My patronymic. It holds me. I call myself. Of Michael. An acephalic gesture.To be called: zovut зовутzvon звон: a ring. A bell ringing, a church bell summoning, celebrating, grieving.