You Look Like You’ve Forgotten Who You Are

You look like

You’ve forgotten

Who you are

Should I remind you?
Should I remind you

Who you are?

Because I don’t have

Any problem
With memory loss

As it relates

To people

Who think when they can pay more rent

Or buy nicer clothes

Or eat at better restaurants

And then shed their inconvenient skin

And let the rest of us

Bury it for them

I’m not going to talk about

When I knew you

Because who knows

If I ever knew you

But I knew

What you

Were about

I knew that you were

Walking around here

Thinking that any of this

Had something to do with worth

That integrity was all about

Your living room furniture

And dignity had something to do with

Having a pool in the backyard

The most noble people
I ever met in my life

Couldn’t afford half the rings

You’ve got on your fingers right now

But when they were gone

People missed them

And here you are

Back, in the flesh

And nobody even knew

You were gone

But if you want a refresher

I can do that for you

See, you think you’re smart

Because instead of just

Denying everything

You walk around acting like

You just don’t remember

You don’t remember

The brown grass in the front

And the rusted out mailbox

And the barking dog

Tied to the porch

It’s all so unfamiliar to you

And that means

You don’t have to run the risk

Of seeming like

You got too big for your britches

You can just pretend

That you don’t remember

Being in those britches

In the first place

And maybe that’s a nice

Little agreement

That some of the people here

Are willing to make with you

Because maybe

They’re ashamed

And they’re grateful

That you have amnesia
Instead of disdain

But I can assure you

I am not one of those people

I am not ashamed

I can plant my feet

And feel good about it

And it’s not because

I don’t aspire

To better

But it’s because

I believe ‘better’

Is about being a better person

Not being able

To afford a better house

Or a nicer car

Or to have people look at you

And feel jealous

For what you have

Instead of who you are

And who you are

Is some stuck-up elitist

Who’s been sucking back

Too much

Backseat limo air

To know that

When you die

All those rings on your fingers

Are going to get handed down

To your husband’s mistress

Right before he makes her

Wife number four

So you enjoy it all

While you have it

Because nobody has it

For long

I hope there’s somebody

Standing by your bedside

Five minutes before you croak

At what will hopefully be

A point much later in your life

And I hope, at that point,

When you really have forgotten

A lot about who you are

There’s someone there

Who cares enough

To remind you