--- title: Riptide of memory genre: verse id: riptide_memory toc: "Riptide of memory" project: title: Stark Raving class: stark order: 16 next: - title: About the author link: about-the-author - title: The Sixteenth Chapel link: sixteenth-chapel prev: - title: Something about all music being performances of _4′33″_ in places where other bands happen to be playing link: music-433 - title: I think it's you (but it's not) link: i-think-its-you ... | Inside of my memory, the poem is another memory. | The air up here is thin, but the wind blows harder | than anywhere else I know. It threatens to rip | my body away, like [an angel of death][], to the stars. | In Arizona, I thought I would forget the rain, | forget its sound on a roof like a hard wind, forget | its smell like a far away ocean. Luckily for me | it rains here. Luckily, because I forget too easily. | In a dream, [my father is caught by a riptide][] off-shore. | He's pulled far out, far enough that the shoreline's | a dim line in his [memory][] on the horizon. I can see him | swimming, hand over hand, pulling his small weight | back to land. I see him as [another shipwreck][] victim, | coughing sand and seawater, beard woven with seaweed. | I see him lying there a long time. I see all this | as he tells me the story, years later, the riptide | only a [ghost][] in his memory, I only a child falling | asleep. My mother's making mayonnaise rolls | in the kitchen, a recipe I'll send for years later, | in Arizona, in the monsoon season, when my thirst | pulls me back home, my memory's lonesome twinkle | like [stars above the mountains][]. I'll send for it | and try to make them, but at this altitude they'll | crumble into dust like desert air, like a memory. [an angel of death]: angeltoabraham.html [my father is caught by a riptide]: father.html [memory]: ouroboros_memory.html [another shipwreck]: shipwright.html [ghost]: one-hundred-lines.html [stars above the mountains]: finding-the-lion.html