Friday, August 19, 2016


       first draft

She says to write about the things I've forgotten
But if I've forgotten them
how can I possibly remember what was forgotten?
She says the poet wrote an entire booklength poem
on what he remembered, and when he reached the end,
he committed suicide.. He had remembered enough for a lifetime.
And in this way I realized that the things we've forgotten
have committed an involuntary suicide of memory
The synapse, gone I imagine the ganglion as large rubber bands
like sergeants standing to attention yelling hoorah
What we remember, what once was forgotten,
gathering proverbial dust on the shelf of memory.
snapping to attention like the nuns with their match boxes,
as we lined up for confirmation, all in rows,
with our blue capes, the color of the sky.

Ellen Bass Workshop

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