the gentle art of forgetting,

November 27, 2008 at 6:27 pm | Posted in writing | 11 Comments
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Once discovered, the need for the gentle art of forgetting, otherwise immortal, he said chuckling, shrugging on the long cloak Takeshi had given him and locking the door behind him. At the other end of the alley a limo was waiting but not for him. I remember the recruitment he had boasted earlier after winning at cards, watching the older boys march so straight and proud and everyone giving thanks. Was it Spain that time, a flash of silver? Or Guatamala when a flower burst sudden red? The music was long and strange and high so perhaps it was east of elsewhere, gathering the chips. Which is where we ended up anyway distort statues bleeding in sand and tank tracks winding off into the heat. Later he put the drink down on the piano. Fuck it, son. I don’t think I can face another one. He turned the corner into the street just as the limo door opened and another opportunity emerged.

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11 Comments »

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  1. Note to me – “play that Amsterdam Song again,” he said, (see vodpod)
    Oh and here is my traditional Thanksgiving Day post. WS Burroughs, “Thanksgiving Prayer.”

  2. No, no! Ow, ow! Turn it off, haha.

    As much as I adore your poetry, I think this is what I relish reading with you. It’s like another language and thread of thought that I am privy to and I feel honoured in that. It is why your work can be read many times and never become boring. I don’t think I’ve ever seen F so reflective before. It was good that he shook his cuffs and onto the next.
    No don’t turn it off. That’s the legendary Jacques Brel who worked with Bertolt Brecht. I love it, it’s performance more than singing and I am going to use that performance as a template for my future podcasts. Haha. Thankyou, Narnie.

  3. Another opportunity to forget, or another opportunity to perhaps keep forever.

    At least when he closes a door a new one opens. Life is still a circle, no matter how hard a person tries to cut it into straight and narrow lines…

    Or maybe I’m just tired!

  4. Love this! Well said.
    Thankyou.

  5. He will never ever forget to put the drink on the piano, but the gentle art of forgetting…I have yet to master.
    Oh, I find forgetting is becoming easier as I get older, Ms Squirrel.

  6. And now you have inspired me to creates some mesostics reading through something by Gertrude.
    That’s an interesting one. I’m not sure I see the connection but any inspiracy is a good inspiracy.

  7. Still holds up reading it today.

    The limo can be dropping off another opportunity to forget, or perhaps it’s a vehicle to take our narrator to a new scene, a new time.

    Either way, the ability to forget keeps the slate clear. It’s an endless and self generated well of possibility.

    And so is this poem, like many others that have tumbled out of your fingertips. May they keep smiling for all time.
    Thanks Eric. Both your comments are great readings. There is a circularity in the doors I didn’t even notice. Forgetting, I thought would be requisite for immortality.

  8. I love the sentences about Spain and Guatamala.

  9. Love this. I’ve missed reading you!

  10. Haha. Cool. Thankyou, especially to the person who pushed wordpress tag ‘adult in eeyore costume’. Was it you, Peter? Whoever it was deserves one giant hug, haha now they’ll never own up,

  11. Peter – he only likes panda love. Eeyore doesn’t cut it.


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