by Joseph Ikhenoba


The poem is about a geographer trying to navigate through an adventure but must learn how to construct his story historically.

The original title is the first to melt away,

Followed dutifully by the opening chapter, story line,

Heart wrenching assertion, and entire body.

It's as if, one by one, the remembrances you used to hold

Decided to retire to the southern portion of the cranium,

To a tiny fishing village where there are no devices,

And the narrative suddenly becomes one

You’ve never perused, really never heard of.

Moreover, when you mastered the planets' orbits long ago,

You said farewell to the identities of the three Magis

And observed the linear system pack its luggage.

A second thing is disappearing,

Perhaps the identity of the tiger lilies, a friend's residence,

Or the geography of Chile's capital.

Whatever it is that you are finding difficult to recall

Is not on the tip of your tongue or even skulking

In a remote area of your spleen.

You are well on your way to obscurity,

Where you will join those who have even forgotten

How to paddle and how to pedal a bike

As it has slipped away down a dark fabled river

With a name that begins with an M, as far as you can recall.

It makes more sense that you would get up

At the end of the night to examine a historical book

For the actual date of a famous battle.

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