Editing poetry: erase

I don’t really have any memories of my childhood except what I’ve seen in videos. Having that as the only memory makes me realise how precarious our false memories stored on media are. It seems sort of pointless taking thousands of digital pictures when a simple magnet can destroy them all.

as the crowd rises
like a congregation
or black celebration
paper streamer
credits fly out
in the wind
crepe paper
see how they stand up so tall
in solemn reverse
they are slow procession
sedate metronome accompanied by cadillac
burst white flowers
fleck the ground
this song is on repeat

in the shaking chord
wiped clean
ruthless hum of the electromagnet
everything will be erased
at the end of this videotape
fast rewind
we will begin again

when you watch that film
of us playing in the snow
as children
my boot seemingly inching
away from outreach fingers
there will be a flicker
the frames shift down
I am trying to peer into
the fastness
into a memory
taped over

via Editing poetry: erase.


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