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why is my memory finite?
i'm so sick of having to remove
old files of people and places
in my head to make space for
all this newer knowledge.

in just one day, i've forgot
the names of three people who
i recently spoke with. some of
my french has gone out the
window and i think that soon
i will lose it all.

i am envious of the person
who has a photographic
memory with limitless card
space. please, oh please,
let me upgrade.
can't remember a **** thing in french. i keep speaking icelandic words in the place of both french and english. i keep asking people, "who are you?" when i know that i should know their names.
The question is not
Do you still love me ?

Rather

Did you ever?!!!
Is it really that bad to feel happy?
To feel like someone cares?
What's so bad with pretending for a minute?

Sure I wont see you again
Or maybe I will
But it doesn't matter if I do or don't

Is it really that bad tasting someone elses lips?
To feel like someone wants you?
What's so bad with being happy?

Sure it didn't mean anything
Or maybe it did
But it doesn't matter if it did or didn't

You made me happy that's what matters right now
I don't have enought time to care about what other people thinks
I live my life the way I want to not how others want me to live
 Sep 2013 Jorge L Echevarria
AJ
My fishy seems to have swam away,
Which is very odd because he lived in a bowl
In the suburbs.
How did this happen?
Here fishy fishy.
I don't want to have to get a new one.
This fishy came pretrained,
And could already do tricks,
The other fishies bore me.
Where's the flattery?
Here fishy fishy.
Simple verses, blessed be the uncomplex,
But the visions, the glimpses,
The sightings, in and out,
Are celestial of, in, and on
This planet shared.

I will walk with you to
Henry's Isle,
You, with me, on the beach,
We will ford Crab Creek,
When the tide is low,
And repair to The  Poet's Nook,
Where a moss stained Adirondack chair
Awaits the Poet Prince,
Your poems carved into
It's soul, it's arms, it's back,
Giving comfort continuous.

This chai, this chair, this throne,
Reserved for the lyricist of our lives,
The shedder of light upon the special,
The seconds, that fete our senses.

I await you arrival.

Tender this serenade, this overdue apology,
For having not thanked you properly
For your living kindness,
Yet my words, insufficient, compared to yours...
A special man, a simple homage.
The golden girl, is not lost,
The Canadian Plains transversely crossed,
Destination unknown, but her dust trail,
Her goldenrod writings, take my breath away,
Her stories leave me incomplete, inchoate,
For I drink her trust, drink her dust,
Yet thirsty left, pleading, more.
Here she comes
Check her out
You can see it in her walk
Listen, to that velvet voice
It's even in her talk

She has a certain swagger
That's so ****, and not lewd
The girl knows where she's going
She's got that country attitude

She's got the look
Of country cool
She's got country attitude
This girl's in charge
She breaks the rules
She's got that country attitude

Like a good smooth bourbon
From Kentucky
To be with her
You must be lucky
She wants man
not just a dude
To share that country attitude

She'll chew you up
and spit you out
So, treat her good
With out a doubt
The way she looks
Is misconstrued
She's full of
Country Attitude

She's got the look
Of country cool
She's got country attitude
This girl's in charge
She breaks the rules
She's got that country attitude
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