Mark Fraser: Day Sixty Nine – Life Inside Another’s Memory Banks

Posted on March 10, 2011 by



Insert memory tape.


round                ing

and  round

Load today’s program –

I can see a family. From afar.
Outside of this. It is mine.
There are words. Grasp them I can’t.
I’m young. Yet I’m old…?
On a beach. In the sun.

Now I’m older. Now I’m taller.
There are words. Now I grasp them.
The family’s breaking. My heart is…aching.
Slippery rhyme. Yet it feels right.
Parents breaking. Simply divorcing.
In a house. In the snow.
What’s next. What now?

I see a new one. A new wedding.
Older again. Watching from a crowd.
Father and mother. Sister and brother.
In a church. On a clear day.
All together again. What’s wrong?

In a hospital.

Lights over head

are buzzing. Knocking out the words

I can’t think. Nothing to say.
So I just sit and watch. A man wastes away.
Older some more. Perhaps a young man.
The family surrounds a bed. Tears in free flow.
Hearts in free fall. Rain batters against the window.
In a ward. In a storm.
Why here. Why now?

Two months later. In the snow.
Sitting in the backseat.  Cars crawl along the road.
We sit behind the hearse. The snow seems…somehow fitting.
Ethereal. Phenomenal.
I’m lifting the coffin. Walking in a procession.
A man says some words. I can’t hear them.
The coffin vanishes. Then the congregation.
Back in the car. To the bar?

Marriage. Once more.
Front row seats. It belongs to me.
The bride in ivory. The house in white,
No church (no religion). Just ornate interiors.
I kiss the brides lips. She kisses mine.
In the sun. In the shine.
Things get hazy. Things get lazy.
In the night. Sleeping tight?

Hospital. Again.
This time it’s panic. This time it’s frantic.
Pacing. Waiting.
In the dark. Still night.
Heart racing. Legs are bracing.
I hear screaming. I perceive crying.
I can’t focus. Someone hands me a child.
It’s mine. It’s ours?

Older. Some more.
The night is quiet. The air is dead.
A thunderous bang. God’s bodyslam.
White light to the north. Air turns to hot lead.
Fire bu-

Eject memory tape.





Pick it up quick! What happened next?

The tape’s frayed, another life lost.

Memory banks off.

Posted in: Mark Fraser