it’s Christmas in another week so i’m trying to gift myself an unwearing

the brain is a filter. it is 
a lens. the brain is 
a keen collector, 
an amasser
of hoards. 
we humans think 
dimly of forgetting.
we are proud of 
our brain, we 
like to display 
its collections. 

on the edge of 
your ocean, 

on the skirts of 
your city, 
in an orange 
shadow of streetlight. 

next to your 
muted field, 
out where the unseen 
only registers as
contented sigh. 

across the avenue
from your small town 
diner, the one 
owned by Greeks, 
the one with the breakfast
menu that is two pages 
short, or 
two items long. 

stand there with your brain, 
and let it forget.

forget the reasons 
you want to leave 
this ocean, 
this diner, 
this field, 
this electrically jeweled

forget why you are 
angry at your parents, 
why you no longer speak 
to your sister. 
forget the humiliation
of your face,
the skin that folds over 
your bones, 
your inability 
to look calmly 
into a mirror. 
forget the person
you think you are. 
the limitations and 
the failures. forget,
so that you can 

and then remember. 

the splendid awe 
of ocean. 
remember the relentless 
potential of city. 
remember the perfume 
and candy of a field, 
wind’d and 
sweeping, golden 
in the triumph of
fading light.
remember the diner 
in your tiny town, 
the fried eggs, 
the warm friend 
of its sticky counters. 

forget your tethering.
forget your leashing,
your stiffening. forget 
your limiting 
and remember; joy 
is limitless. 
it is inexhaustible 
it is quiet. 
and it will not
forget you. 

Cape Porpoise, Maine

Published by Zak

an intertidal island in an ocean of impermanence.

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