Tuesday, June 07, 2011


I want to own words. I read something I like and I want to possess it.

What do I mean by it? The physical object that is the book? This version? A copy? Transcribed onto the screen painstakingly, or into a notebook whose pages I never revisit?

This is why I mourn the loss of of memory. My incapacity to soak up words so they're indelible once they've entered my mind.

Think of all the poems I could have farenheited into myself. Who would I introduce myself as? Which poem would you be? What would exchange make of us as people?

[coming up, in a day or two, a post on the library at Innerpeffrey].


km said...

words so they're indelible once they've entered my mind


Anil P said...

Unless it's loss of space in memory. The clogging y'know!

JP said...

Oh I love this. There are several poems by Richard Wilbur, CP Cavafy and John Dunne that I would like to be for a while.

dipali said...

The stuff in long term memory remains. Medium and short term seems to vanish without a trace:(