We Forgot

We forgot to look up the hundred

years’ war, and you,

to send in the forms that would permit

resale of most anything, stale thoughts, ancient artifacts of one’s life,

as long as one pays to the state

its obligatory taxes. So now, we sit; listening to music;

all chores completely beyond us.

We are, like, complacently incompetent,

the two of us, enveloped in this unique, ineffable sense of Presence,

a quiet but overwhelming wave of Poignant Nostalgia

that laps, as if conscious, at our feet,

stealthily filling, gently obliterating, the places

we had previously stood, and making us forget

whatever it was that we had forgotten.