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].
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].
4 comments:
words so they're indelible once they've entered my mind
QFT.
Unless it's loss of space in memory. The clogging y'know!
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.
The stuff in long term memory remains. Medium and short term seems to vanish without a trace:(
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