On Mourning

It's a small thing on a shelf. Ashes.
Can't quite remember, but I'll try my best. Before I can't quite remember.
Oh look, print outs from a text. Full of noise, copied fifteen times.
Is it forgotten yet?

He was; nothing less.
Inside me, he is: a hobby, a pastime, an infuriating conversation.
Four tries at love, and three tries at life.
Is any of this important enough to forget?

Leader, functionary, driving sprocket
In machines he couldn't decide to despise for a time.
Official, miscreant, willing subject
Of inertia as culture for a time.
A laundry list that will be condensed after a time.
A caricature, useful to me for my time.
What do I choose to forget?

The transmission to the next is imperfect.
Lionized or colored with rose, who's to say different?
Copy errors stack.
Lessons replace history.
You can't take it with you.