The Bastard Sons
Poem by Juan Carlos Diaz
What are memories but the bastard sons
Of time and reverie, with emotional minds
And tongues keeping us prisoner in a
Cell of dreams won and birthed and
Dreams aborted and lost.
This is where the scars
Of philosophers are
Fashioned into women
And men with silver
Tongues that seem
To ask a few simple
Question:
Can you see your memories?
In the reflection of and
Sound of a philosopher’s silver
Tongue?
Painting by Edgar Degas