20160208 (forgetting)

Would we delete unwanted memories,

Kick over the cliff the embarrassing,

Deep six the most hurtful, humiliating

Ones at which we clench our hands

However briefly, however secretly

Decades later? I think I’d lose the

Public ones first and hope those

Who know wouldn’t give a damn

Ever to raise them. Most of those

Would be family memories which

If they were gone to me might still

Figure deeply in how I am seen—

Loving and caring father, husband

Serene, or temperamental, insecure

Master of the house, grudge-bearing

Conniver, demanding. Family life

Is where the mines are buried—

Walking on eggshells—broken glass.

Too many maps to memorize, you

Know you’re going to hit one sooner

Or later. Then there’s everything that

Happened at work. If you loved it

You’ll not want to forget a bit.

But like most, you didn’t love it.

It would take a delete switch or a

Lifetime of drinking to burn each 

Page of the book you called your 

Career. Why do you drink. I drink

To forget. Forget what? I must’ve

Forgotten. So why do you drink? 

Because sure as hell I don’t 

Want to remember.  Last, there’s

The ones known only to you,

The ones nobody knows nor needs

To know. Generally they affected

No one but you. No public loss

Of face, no humiliation. As lawyers

Might counsel, “Look, if they don’t

Ask, what’s gained by telling?”

Unnecessary confession is not

Good for the soul. Sleeping dogs

And that sort of thing. Besides it’ll

Be nothing new. You can ask.

Practically everybody feels 

Like a fake inside. Why do you

Think eight out of ten are on

Some kind of head drug and 

All the rest are drinking or toking?

Who’s to say all that stuff you

Want to forget isn’t the stuff you

Need to keep you straight up?

Take ‘em away and the edifice

Crumbles. Ain’t you learned to

Love your scars? All those bumps

And bruises keep you together.

Forget them and who knows

What you’ll become—certainly

More arrogant if you ditch all

Humiliations. If you did a

Rotten thing, you know that’s

The worst you did, so move on.

No high tech forgetting for you.

Accentuate the positive 

For Pete’s sake.

c. J.S.Manista, 2016