“Indefinite Divisibility” (1942) by Yves Tanguy
T.S. Eliot said,
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium
I know–exactly–what he means
Tragedy lurks in the midnight deeps
It hides, free from consciousness
It hides, outside memory
A catastrophic tick that has no echo
Fleeting images and emotional residue
all amble home in the morning
memory, she’s a fickle cow
you can never have one in the now
and why are the memories best of those who need them least
should not as your age grows great your memory too increase
an eight year old has no need of keys but he can tell you where they are
for me the point is quite moot cause I’ve forgotten where’s the car
more and more I’m less and less certain of what memories were dreams
I clearly remember posting that bill cause I passed a yeti eating ice-cream
a woman watching 60 Minutes was robbed, but cops called her a loony
you see the old girl was quite sure she’d been burgled by Andy Rooney
now it’s time for me to bring this poem to a close
I had a much better bit but have forgotten how it goes
I remember when I could remember,
but these days I invariably forget.
My life isn’t even in its September
but by absent-mindedness I’m beset.
My keys? My keys? Where are they please?
I’ve searched from ceiling to floor.
My keys? My keys? Where are they please?
No, I’m certain I didn’t ask that before.
Once I juggled a hundred tasks right within my mind.
Now I need write a list if they number more than two.
Buy stock in the makers of legal pads, if you’re so inclined
What were we talking about? There’s something I need to do…
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Tiger Riding for Beginners 