that must be
the final
indignity
the thought
that comes
and goes
explodes
vanishes
like some
mythical
gossamer thing
that drifts in
your mind the
vision that
completely
disappears
as if some
invisible
sprite had
swiped it
from some
troublesome
cobweb
in your brain
and hustled it
away
that image
that feeling
that number
that person's
eyes  nose  mouth
that remembrance
that funny thing
you said at
some raucous
party a few
years ago
or was it
many years ago?
you can almost
hear the
laughter from
the crowd
as if you were
there again
but what was
it you said
exactly?

and what about
that old neighbor
you liked so much
the one who died
shoveling snow?
a man you knew
for twenty years
and now you can
only vaguely recall
his body sprawled
out at the end
of his driveway
now you can't
even summon
his name
what was
his name?
what was
it?

you would be
grateful now
to dredge up
the very first
time you met
your future
in-laws your
daughter's
first dance
recital your
grandson's first
soccer match
or even that
poem you
revisited
last night
before you
fell asleep
that poem
your wife shared
with you
what was
that poem
about? what was
the title?
the audacious
first line?
all the words
and clever
alliteration
all reduced to
a hazy blur
dissipating
like those
antacid
tablets that
fizzed into
a seltzery
four ounces
swirling
midway down
a plain white
dixie cup you
left
abandoned
forgotten
on the
bathroom
counter hours
ago...could
even discomfort
even pain
be erased
so quickly
so easily
so thoroughly?