Hold My Horses-Chris Bower

Memorio’s Day by RFK

My butler’s name was Robert

He came before me

and preferred to be called Robert

When I decided that I preferred to be called Robert

and not Bobby

the family disagreed

Rose and Papa Joe

had long ago decided

that the servants working in our home

were to be addressed by their first names

something that caused a bit of a scandal

in the neighborhood

but was accepted because

Papa Joe was not a man easily disagreed with

I disagreed with this decision

and felt that I, as a young boy

who was a part of the family Robert

was working for,

should have a choice

in what I was called

All they did,

was use the logic of the garden playhouse

and say

“He was first”

Robert became my butler when Joe Jr went to war

and was in no need of a butler

though his letters home

might indicate otherwise

Robert’s main duty was to dress me

He had not been used to dressing Joe Jr

for he was in his twenties

and had been dressing himself

since he was 6,

only needing help with ties and cuffs etc

I told Robert that his job required him

to dress me for the next day

while I slept

Robert objected

but my family disagreed

Robert argued that I would not be clean

and would need a bath before dressing

but I said Robert would bathe me in the evening

every evening

and if there were dirty parts in the morning

they could be taken care after I woke up

dressed

My family agreed

and Robert knew it was best not to disagree again

Robert would come to my room

an hour before my scheduled time to rise

and would undress me from my sleeping clothes

and dress me while I slept

It became my game to stop paying attention to calendars

or to the words people said to me about the next day’s events

I would wake up, yawn, stretch out my arms, open my little eyes

and look down at my clothes

If I was in school clothes, I knew I had school ahead

If it was church clothes, I knew church was ahead

If it was happy church clothes, I knew marriage was ahead

If it was sad church clothes, I knew a funeral was ahead

If it was semi-formal church clothes, I knew it was a holiday

One morning in late May

I woke up cranky, swatting at Robert

who was shining my cuff links

He looked so unhappy

“Robert”, I asked,” Is it a holiday?”

“Yes, Bobby”,

“Which one”, I asked

“It’s Memorial’s Day Bobby”

Robert had a habit of pluralizing almost everything

in a complicated and nonsensical manner

When we would be sitting around waiting for snacks

He would say, “The cakes are in the ovens boys”

and in our heads

we would imagine dozens of cakes

dozens of plates

and when only one would come out

one big enough for a wedding party

the four of us would be upset

at the lack of multiple everything

and eat our cake quietly

mourning the loss of the plural

At the time of this poem

the family doctors

had diagnosed me

with what they called

Sloppy Mouth Syndrome

and the problem with having Sloppy Mouth Syndrome

is that often parts of words

come out sloppy

and some come out just right

so I often made sense but not a lot of sense

It was said that I could also have had

Sloppy Ear Syndrome

in that I could only hear parts of words correctly

but the blood tests were inconclusive

When Robert told me it was Memorial’s Day

I either misspoke or misheard it Memorio’s Day

and asked, “Who is Memorio?”

Robert, always a fan of mythology proceeded to tell me

that Memorio was the God of Happy Memories

and in the end of May, on a Monday

we celebrate his legacy

All bad memories, he explained

were to be not cast aside but to be remembered

as happy moments

not sad ones

I was grumpy when I woke

but happy to hear of this wonderful holiday

The family was preparing a picnic outside

and as Robert was cleaning my dirty parts,

I came up with a song

and sang it

as I was being cleaned

Robert said I should perform it

for the family

and I agreed

There were a lot of friends and family

sitting in white chair on the lawn

A lot of the men were in uniform

I thought they must be remembering today

how wonderful it was to be in battles

fighting hand to hand to the death

flying planes into black clouds

and all the women were in blue and red

and they must have been remembering today

how wonderful it was to be alone and worried

I asked Papa Joe if I could sing a song

to help celebrate Memorio’s Day

“Ok Bobby”, he said

but it’s pronounced Memorial Day

This is the song I sang

It’s time to forget all your troubles,

all those troubles are smiling now

It’s Memorio’s Day!

Nothing to be sad about

not about what you were sad about

It’s Memorio’s Day

If they died, if they were sad

all those things never happened, today

you don’t have time to wait because

it’s Memorio’s Day

Nothing bad has ever happened!

not today!

because It’s Memorio’s Day!’

Forget all your troubles!

Forget all your troubles

It’s Memorio’s Day

Robert resigned

in a letter

and left it on my bed

which had been left unmade

before I performed

He was not there

for anyone to question his decision,

to disagree

My new butler’s name was Eric

I didn’t require him to dress me

or bathe me

though after a few weeks of seeing me dress myself

my family disagreed

I asked if I could change my name to Eric

and have Eric be called Bobby

I was hoping to confuse everyone

and end up having them say

Let’s call you Robert

but they did not take to it

and Bobby I remained