Memory Loss
written by: Jim Murdoch
I used to not forget. At least
I remember not forgetting.
That is I think I remember.
I might be imagining not
forgetting. Yes, that’s most likely.
The things that I do remember
the movies of Woody Allen
or the songs of Woody Guthrie
and the voice of Woody Woodpecker
can’t be the most important things.
I must be forgetting all the
important things that have happened
but I can’t remember the rules
for remembering anymore.
Jim Murdoch grew up in the heart of Burns Country in Scotland. Poetry, for him, was about irrelevance—daffodils, vagabonds and babbling brooks—until one day in 1973 he read Larkin's 'Mr Bleaney' and felt as if the scales had fallen from his eyes. How could something so... so seemingly unpoetic be poetry? He aimed to find out.
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