IMAX

 

Guarding against the of-late

tendency to forget completely,

 

I sketched the past to scale

on blue-checked graph paper,

 

putting into an overview perspective

the best and worst iconic moments,

 

all tops of heads, shoulders and cleavage,

accurate miniature snapshots,

 

not influenced by expression or words,

no innuendo or facial tics,

 

just impartial history detailed from above,

creating a rolodex dimension

 

for the bijou reality of the back

of the mind, index-tabbed by category,

 

providing easy reference for the

rem-sleep dreamer who provides the 3D quality,

 

plugs back in the motivators of the senses,

the fragrance of basil, feather massages,

 

the bedroom brown eyes

that suck inhibition from the room

 

in the third of our existences,

the sepia-toned stream of consciousness,

 

the cognac-noir matinees

where we’re always our most outrageous,

 

most run-on, most relaxed.

 

4 comments

  1. Hi Craig

    for the bijou reality of the back

    of the mind, index-tabbed by category,

    providing easy reference for the

    rem-sleep dreamer who provides the 3D quality,

    plugs back in the motivators of the senses,

    Very clever title and a creative way or reflecting on and mentally recording memory of what has been. I like the extended metaphor of using an IMAX theatre quality to describe this experience. Interesting language and intent make this poem a very contemplative and enjoyable read!

    Thanks
    Wendy

    Like

  2. Craig,

    I can’t let this poem pass without telling you I think this poem is splendid.
    Even though I am not very active, please know I read and appreciate
    you and your work. a zillion thanks to you!

    My best,

    Sarah

    Like

  3. Comes through loud and clear; time slips, as does memory seemingly; but it’s all there lurking in the recesses.

    Clever stuff, great title.

    Douglas.

    Like

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