I can’t figure out memory. No, I can’t remember birthdays, appointments, or what I had for dinner last night. Instead my brain chooses to retain absurd information: song lyrics, the name of the guy my friend Terese was with in high school (Terese, who I haven’t seen since halfway through high school), and, of course, this silly poem from grammar school. It just popped into my head today for some reason. Maybe it’ll get stuck in your head as well:
One fine morning, in the middle of the night
Two dead boys got up to fight
Back to back they faced each other
Drew their swords and shot each other
A deaf policeman heard the noise
And came and killed the two dead boys.
All those brain cells I’ve wasted, and this is the crap that’s left.
ETA: OK, I decided to search for this poem online and I found several pages, including one on folk rhymes that gives a bit of the poem’s history. So maybe, just maybe those brain cells retaining this stuff… well, maybe they’re just trying to get me to read up on some literary history!