#411: A Poem of Forgetfulness on April 7, 2022

Three different spoons
came out of the silverware drawer
this morning before I remembered
that I had forgotten
I already had a spoon.
Yesterday in front of a group
of students I could not think
of the word “phonetic”–
What’s that word, I asked,
the word we use when we
talk about spelling a word
the way it sounds?
I came up with “phonically”
and a 16 year old boy
corrected me.

What, me worry?

I have always been
somewhat absent-minded–
the wallet, the keys, the shoes
go missing and it’s rarely
the dog’s fault.
I’ve lost my glasses
while I was wearing them.
But words–no. I can’t be
forgetting words or reversing
words. To lose
words is to lose everything.
So, because the alternative
is terrifying, I chalk it up
to an extension of my natural
absent-mindedness, a brain
that is full too often with
too many simultaneous things,
like all those hundreds
of things I find teaching
about crazy.

Published by michaeljarmer

I'm a public high school English teacher, fiction writer, poet, and musician in Portland, Oregon

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