Remember Me

 Remember Me

Each of us is born, a writ of instruction

inscribed on our heart.

The authentic self.

 

But really, what is authentic?

It sounds worth exploring.

 

If only to articulate our place in this world

before the robots take over.

 

Authentic:

catcher’s mitts;

pogroms;

voices from above.

 

Inauthentic:

table manners;

Europe.

 

Query:

If rivers and rivulets all run to the sea

how will this world commemorate me?

 

Adage:

No image or shrine can appear to be dearer

than a well-regarded and portable mirror.

 

Precis:

All snowflakes are alike.

 

And yet

unending thought, such rains as never cease

monsoons drown the granite, toppled priest

but no Nietzschean mockery 

can deconstruct me

flinty, hardened, lone discarded penny

fossilizing one among a many

curious glyph inscribed on stone

pleading, unrepentant tone:

do not forget I wrote this poem.

Reviews

[Arundass TP]

This is written with true understanding. Great poem 👍

[Montag]

Thank you.

[Ken e Bujold]

A provoking read Montag. As always the grim gaze of Niet hovers in the background. Love the authentic: catcher's mitts, programs ...sheer genius.

happy new yr friend

[Montag]

Ken you're kind as always. I'll accept 'provoking' and 'grim' but 'genius' sounds like the champagne is still talking.

Good to hear from you. The latest New Yorker has a Paul Muldoon poem.