1992
I bumped into the
memory man
the other day—
(we’ve been
crossing paths often
lately)—
I listened to small
things
which gave me small
reactions.
But when he arched
his eyebrows
as if asking was I
ready?
I decided I wasn’t
in about
one second
and I left memory
man
where I found him
and
conveniently forgot
where
that place happened
to be.
The only thing is
he knows how to
find me
he finds me every
day
and every day he
asks the question
and every day I
say, “No thanks.”
One of these days,
I guess.
It will be one of
these days.
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