The Absence Of Mind

There is an elephant in the room it’s in the corner eating my straw mattress the one I have had since childhood and could not bear to get rid of, because all my dreams are hidden in the stalks of cereal plants; white now as an old man’s beard, yet soft as the fleece of a spring born lamb. Ah, memory of a good life lived; sing for m let me write down what happened so long time ago when time was forever and forgetfulness was a youthful distraction on a jubilant day. Poor memory is more sinister now, what is forgotten will not be remembered, so I need my dreams. It is true that once upon a time I was seafarer, but since I do not recall well, I have to invent my tales, yet I have seen and feared the irate sea. I must write all this down if the elephant eat the last straw my dreams will be blank screen.