when tuesday barrels down at me,
coming in on the tail of monday's drag,
and i'm consantly not ready,
there's pause to wonder.

i'm trying to forget your smile,
the feel of your waist
in the cup of my hand and
seeing your girlish dimples;

i'm remembering to forget
your jean harlowe-mole,
high on your right cheek,
an axis for your beauty.

i sometimes succeed
in remembering to forget;
as often as not i'm the dog
chasing his elusive tail.

at length, he catches his tail
and i remember to forget;
both, whirling dervishes.
we merely capture the wind.

at the end o' the day
we only have ourselves.
me: my memories, he: his tail,
and both tired from the venture.

10/21/2005