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Two poems on the plasticity of memory

Simon Orpana1

Inscriptions Souvenir

– contemporary thinking You rolled like a tourist


on art, philosophy and Into town,
psycho-analysis –
Sampled some food
https://inscriptions.tankebanen.no/ And scenery, purest
Correspondence: Simon Orpana, Of vaudeville clowns,
saorpana@gmail.com Performing nude.
Section: Literary fiction
Received: 11 April 2018 The shirt I didn’t wash
Accepted: 30 May 2018
Because it smelled of you
Published: 1 July 2018
Turned up months later,
How to cite: Orpana, Simon Andrew.
A trophy of loss
“Two poems on the plasticity of
My grief to renew
memory.” Inscriptions 1, no. 1
(2018): 13. Like a pet alligator.
Copyright © 2018 Orpana. This is an
open-access article distributed under the The time now has passed
terms of the Creative Commons To recite these pains.
Attribution 4.0 International License (CC The crown of my head
BY). The use, distribution or Is polished glass,
reproduction in other forums is The lizard is dead—
permitted, provided the original author(s) You can see his remains.
and the copyright owner(s) are credited
and that the original publication in this
journal is cited, in accordance with
accepted academic practice. No use,
distribution or reproduction is permitted
which does not comply with these terms.

1 University of Alberta.
Orpana Two poems

The Guest

From this breath on, the memories The joints that hinge anatomy
I shall aspire to make So many roads these bones to steer
Sun-bleached and surrogate Will desiccate and disappear
To dismay my enemies Wherever chance deposits me.

Will infect the lithosphere Your strong arms remain the fold
Rank monsters to unleash, Steering me through great distress,
Injecting twilight’s crease Holding me in soft caress,
With a different atmosphere. Turning tears to gold.

The sun itself is made to melt This sole memory I keep,


From the venoms we exude Measurement of all the rest,
When schedules and rectitude Wide as its foundations deep;
Vex the hired help. Welcome, deathless guest.

Revolt gathers behind clouds,


Unrest rattles rusty dreams,
Vain pleasures wear away the seams
Of each lonely shroud.

July 2018 – Volume 1 – Article 12 2

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