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downing the memories / alzheimer’s anonymous

By Emily Forslof


Your name has slipped my mind—

it went walking the other day, I saw it wandering in

pig-tailed girls with your giggle on their chapped lips. Are you

that creak in the wind? Your name,


it went walking the other day, I saw it wandering in…

…Oh, you—the trill in a Barefoot bottle,

that creak in the wind, your name

whispers through cattails. Remind me of your name again,


oh, granddaughter—the trill in a Barefoot bottle,

it rings a bell, it’s the toll I pay for forgetting that

whispers through cattails remind me of your name. Again,

the bottle’s empty, and nestled against the others


it rings a bell, it’s the toll I pay for forgetting that

pig-tailed girls with your giggle on their chapped lips are you.

The bottle’s empty, and nestled against the others,

your name has slipped my mind.