DOG
You sit, remembering.
What is it you remember? Unsure; confused, rather. Remembering
the confusion.
How often did you forget if you had switched the light off? Quite
often.
How often did you forget the correct amount of change for the
swimming bath lockers? Again; quite often.
How often did you forget your children’s names? Often. Not
quite often. Just... often.
Lament. You were a good father, grandfather,
great-grandfather. Lament it over. The extent of which you forget. Would the
dimmed out lights of the past even matter once you leave? Would the green leafs
of doubt be planted in the mind of the mindless? No; I would think not. Yet I
don’t think much, either. I could present to you, if you’d like, the future.
No? Indeed, you work at your best when remembering.
“In, girl.”
I see. I’m a painful reminder. I’m sorry.
When I leave, when you remain seated. Don’t forget.
All you do is remember the confusion.
No comments:
Post a Comment