the world I sail on.
I say I'm not troubled ‑ I accept
the powerful hospitality of the tides.
But I write little communications and float them off
to anywhere.
Some are Ophelias witless and singing
among the foam flowers.
But others are Orpheus lamenting
a harbour, a house there, and a girl in it."
Adrift
My sister can rattle off random poems at will.
...
Freak.
I can remember the police alphabet and that's it.
(I like reciting it at breakneck speed just because I can)
Ask me to remember anything from my favourite Dylan Thomas poem, Love in the Asylum and the most I can remember is "set fire to the stars" because it's the famous part!
And I love this poem.
To my very bones I love it.
It does things to my insides I'm not even comfortable talking about.
...And I can't remember its damn words.
...
Memory of a concussed goldfish.
So, when the aforementioned sibling sporadically throws poetical words at me... like today with Adrift... I kind of want to throw a thesaurus at her because fuck, why didn't I get the memory genes?
Whyyyyy?
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