Forgetting What You Read

I read a catchy essay
In The New York Times today,
About how what we read in books
Just up and floats away.

It doesn’t matter what the genre:
Fiction or things real,
For some of us, our brains cannot
Absorb all that we deal.

Even if the book is one
We loved and recommended,
A few months later what we can
Remember’s been suspended.

When someone asks you to recall
A character’s decision,
The blank look on your face
Will likely garner some derision.

If friends remind you of your rave,
You know that, yes, you said it,
And you’re embarrassed to admit
It’s like you never read it.

Perhaps our mental wiring
Is getting frayed and worn,
Or else we’ve used up all the brain cells
Dealt when we were born.

Whatever is the reason
That I have no plot retention,
I’ll keep on reading just as if
Retaining’s my intention.