At a certain time in a man’s life, he forgets things. He not only forgets but he also imagines he forgets. Maybe there is a good reason he forgets. Maybe he lives in the Midwest, and all around him the fields are flat, the skies are white, the winters are so long, they never end. He can’t tell one day from another, one field or thought from the next. Occasionally something terrible happens. Maybe his wife leaves. Or his pet. Maybe he doesn’t notice for a week or two. He forgets to. And really, why not? Why not leave? Why not forget? Of course there are those who think his life is tragic. They want to save the man. He was a nice man after all. They remember his better days. They say he should take a vacation, go somewhere exotic, see the world, and then come back.

So maybe the man decides to take a trip, to relax. He flies to Paris, but once he is there, he checks for his passport. He checks again and again. He has to touch it. Seeing it is never enough. But one day his passport is missing. Now when the man reaches for his passport, there is nothing there. He reaches for it repeatedly. Sometimes he touches his penis instead. Sometimes he forgets he is touching his penis. When he realizes what he is doing, he worries women might notice. He wants to ask the woman if she notices, but he forgets. Maybe the women forget too.

Maybe it’s cosmic law to forget. Everything and everyone gets lost in time and thought. Even the women, the penis and passports. But really, he wants to ask someone, where did he put his passport? His penis? His woman? He thinks he would know these things if only. If only he could sleep again in his own bed. Maybe in the end, that’s all a man wishes. For one last night in the bed of his past. When he thinks of his bed, he remembers a woman beneath the sheets, and a cat. Or he thinks he does. He remembers the morning light and the song of doves. The sad song, two notes played over and over. Or was it a Bob-white? He’s not sure. Maybe that’s why he begins to weep. He wonders if there ever was bed like that. He wonders if it’s better to forget