Remembering To Forget

One of those nights where

the past is stood up by the future

and the now is caught in between

with a present for both

but nobody’s got hands to grasp what wisdom the right now holds.

One of those nights where

you can’t tell the ink from the unlit

shadows

and this writer’s left tossing notes down black holes

hearing echoes of new songs played to old memories

remembering there are no new memories

can right now be a memory?

Forgetting you’re in a deja vu

photographing the mirror image of a dream

calling home to a continent you left this morning

and hearing them speaking from tomorrow.

I always ask who won the ballgame so I can go make a big bet

yet tomorrow always seems to know as much as I do.

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