H e a r t S o n s & H e a r t D a u g h t e r s of A l l e n G i n s b e r g

N a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 1 4 : A r c h i v e s E d i t i o n

BOB RIXON

The Memory Of Memory

Having said it all

saying goodby

again & again until

I almost believe it

Surely there is a season

for the forgetting

when the leaves hide

the scars of the branch

When the birds sing swinging

along the sagging wires

surely there is a better

& louder song than my own

I drain the fragrance

from the honeysuckle

carrying that scent with me

like the memory of a dance

the memory of memory

my unspoken obligation –

when I meet you there

I will deny it ever happened