Forgetting,
according to the theory,
is not something that just happens,
it's an active process.

Well, that's the theory,
but we all know, we don't always mean to forget.
Sometimes there are more important things,
or more interesting,
for us to remember.
And sometimes our brain does the forgetting for us,
without our wishing it.

The old lady wondered
why the car we were in was so big.
"It's a hearse.
We're going
to the funeral,
do you remember?"
"Whose funeral is it?"
"We're going to bury Dad,
your husband."
"My husband?
I was married?
Was he a good man?"

She had not chosen to forget
the life they had spent together.
Her brain had simply switched off those years
as if they had never happened.

Lucky in a way.
What would her life have been
if she had remembered
those seventy-three years
and had nothing to replace them?
Worse still, if she had had to start remembering
all over again?

"She was an
unusual dresser.
Every night,
she wore bruises
on her heart,
love on her lips,
pain in her eyes,
and ink on her fingers.
They called her poetry."

This book is full
of my father's eye lashes
He treated the pages
rough like his sons
pinching the daylights
out of them, I remember
mud and grease
on calloused thumbs
and you can still smell
Four Roses bourbon
in the morning
through the onionskin
He would not weep
he knew most folks
never kept their word
Anyway, his death
came through
like a hitchhiker
You could see it coming
like the slow light
of a faraway dead star.

I was thinking
about back then
before I thought I
heard notes on
flutes made of reeds
when there was
no young bird
beating its wings
inside my chest
no light in my eyes
but this was long ago
before the shadow
of darkness came
to command the land
back when the moon
was the blind eye
of a fish in cold water
in the back of a cave.

Most nights
I reach inside
my mind
trying to unwind
those thoughts
like twist-ties
that bind
to keep the loaves
of bread
free of mold
and fresh;
un-plan the long
planned plan
of mine
to choose the time
of my demise;
and sometimes
I try to listen
closely to
the constant ringing
in my ears,
the rhythmic singing
whine and changing
tones that turn
the sadness
churning, the waves
of emotions raging
in my ocean,
blue as the bottle
kept by my bed,
sleep my quest; sleep
eternal, the rest
of death I beg, leave
me alone, leave
me one more night
of breath to breathe.

Well...first I'd probably pay off all my student loans

And with the rest of the $10, i don't know.....

Chipotle or taco bell maybe?