Memories

Memories

i've forgotten a lot
and i forget a lot
a friend suggesting
it's a problem
not remembering
much of what he's said
or written
but i hate to tell him
it may not be 
all bad memory
more a matter
of much of what he's said
just isn't worth remembering
and realizing too
he remembers
no more of what i've said
or written
than i do
of his
realizing
there's something to that
that i think says more
about him
lamenting my lack of memory
or attentiveness
than it might say
about me
keeping quiet
about the same
goddamned thing

there's this thing
inside my head
my mind
that struggles
constantly
for its own attention
my mind
preoccupied
with nothing 
but itself
its own thoughts
its ideas 
its bullshit

i've tried pummeling it
into submission
with booze
but
in the end
it was a bad strategy

so i try distracting it
from itself
with things
outside it
but it's a powerful force
the mind
that demands
its own
attention
it takes something unique
something really grand
or novel
to distract it
from itself
for very long

but i try
figuring
a little time away
from itself
unlike the heart
will make the mind
grow less fond
of itself
or help break 
its nasty habit
of always returning
to itself

so i distract it
with art
nature and people
hoping it'll find
a different muse
while it struggles
the entire time
to maintain
its lofty 
privileged position
against them all

and the thing is
with time
most distractions
in the arts
and people
i've seen 
most of it
before
and usually in better form
somewhere else
some other time
than what's presently
at hand
so it's rare
to find anything
to distract this mind
from itself
for very long
anything so good
that it sticks in memory
for very long
but i keep on trying
figuring a little time
outside
for some fresh air
and sunlight
to break up the solipsism
is better
than all my time 
spent in the same old
goddamned
musty room
every day
and night

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