Streams of consciousness were led to oblivion,
and everything went down the sink-
hour after hour, day after day.
It would have been another flood
but there was no hole cover.
Nor need to forget.
Not all the water can be contained.
Nor all the memories should.
Oh, I hate those cataracts of forgetfulness.

You didn’t set the house on fire.
Maybe next time!
How can you be mad with all these burning smile faces?
Maybe you’d prefer a burnt house to the incoming gas bill.
This time it’s just a spoiled pan.
Next time? They won’t be smiling anymore.
Forgetting to turn the stove off should instill anger into you.