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 to 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
By B Gourley in funny, humor, mind, Neuroscience, poem, Poetry on June 28, 2016.
