Years ago at a college
reunion

       an old friend

said she didn't remember me

and to this day

   I still unpack and

           repack that memory

   of she

who took

all those seconds minutes

    hours  days

                              years

and scrubbed them from

every shelf cubby alcove
and wiped them off

                                 the front door
the counter
                               the cash register

     the stairs

swept them from

the basement

and dusted them from the  attic

   I try not to take

it personally

                              but there is no

other computer out

                                         there

on the market        

                                            that needs

these types of memories stored

                                                         ­                           in a mouse maze

                                               of how to dance

and how to smile and how to love

                                   and how to laugh

in order to function
                                                        ­                and drive the

vessel it is
                                                 commanding

and as tempted as I have been

                                                           ­         I have fought

the

                                                     pressures

internal                               external

to simplify and reorganze

                                        the trivia facts

figures                                bar and parlor tricks

                                    pool shots anachronistic cheese

                                                         ­                       
                                                                ­                           ***** humor
****** stories


that  are crammed into shelves


                                    and stacked floor to ceiling

there will be no hall of records

                                              and when they come


which they will surely do

                                          you have my word


I will not slip away quietly

into the night


   Whit Howland © 2019