Canadian Poetry Online top banner link to Canadian Poetry Online home page link to University of Toronto Libraries home page

Man Without Memory

Robert Boates
From:   The afterlife. Toronto: Seraphim Editions. 1998.

Watching poplars sweep the sky
dahlias withering in a garden,
two flamingos in tableau.
I know nothing of this place
or of seasons.
When you enter the room I forget
the world outside. I check
my watch; I have been awake
two minutes and must write
it down. You are the first
person I have ever seen,
ever held, ever spoken to.

You produce a diary and a pen.
In the book are entries
by my hand, but I did not write
them; I have never seen this book
before, never written a single word
anywhere.

You press me on the penmanship
which we both recognize,
and I reiterate, to distraction:
I have never seen the book before.
I have never seen you before this moment.
I know nothing of nurses or illness.

I check my watch: I have been awake
two minutes. I don't remember
your arrival. Before me
is a deck of cards laid out on a bed.
Someone is playing Patience.

Again you ask about the journal,
lined with scores of music.
This enrages me for I leave never
written or conducted though you
assure me once I sang. I know
nothing of song or supplication.

I check my watch against yours: I have
been awake for only two minutes;
1 have just been born: Hello
Hello, 1 love you.


Robert Boates's works copyright © to the author.


Canadian Poetry Online bottom banner link to University of Toronto Libraries home page link to Digital Collections home page link to University of Toronto Library catalogue link to Canadian Poetry Online home page link to University of Toronto Libraries home page link to Contact Information page