This charge was laid upon me long ago: Do not forget;
Remember these lives, that the world in turn will not
forget
Big John Marino, the terror of his district,
Where none were as strong as he, none as handsome,
as cunning, as cruel,
Saying, before the state destroyed him:
“Tell them the truth. Tell them everything, so they
will always know.”
Know always, therefore, the great, the ruthless and
bold, the one and only Big John
Do not forget the fabulous bankrupt, and the vivid for
tunes that somewhere, surely, the years still guard;
Keep the memory of an heiress, flashlit favorite in a
season that cannot fade;
Never let fade, altogether, the programs identifying
those others, miscellaneous members of the cast
Each of them unique, though now the names, faces, and
stories are obscured,
Each saying in words, or underneath the words, and
some with their sealed eyes and cold lips
(But even so they were sure of themselves, still sure)
Urging always: “It is vital;
You must remember the fateful beginning, fully to
understand the end.
(Though of course there can be no real end);
To grasp the motives, fully, it is vital to remember
the stamp of the mind,
Vital to know even the twist of the mind …”
You will remember me?
Do not forget a newspaperman who kept his word.
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