Some Memories

some memories avoid us
like coal stowed obscurely
in the mountain—
some memories are relics of
impossible adventures,
dream gems, and are artefacts
of the alien, inaccessible other—
some memories preface
our madness, and in their
hiddenness restore reason like
a rhetorical trick—some
memories are imprisoned—
they are controlled by crook and
crozier, they are in the abbey,
they are far down the
forgotten path, lost in fog—
do not follow, do not find,
do not remember.

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can read it here for free, or get it for your e-reader on iBooks, Amazon or Kobo. Or you can just say you read the book, and donate five bucks down below. Go on.

Gabriel Muoio


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