An Overloaded Hard Drive

It's happened again, the thing that I've dreaded

Up from my desk wondering where I was headed.

Where was I going? What was my task?

I just can't remember so don't even ask.

My brain's overloaded with mathematics equations,

Trivia tidbits from long gone occasions.

President's names in alphabet order

The length in miles of the Mexican border.

The piece that I played at piano recital,

One line from some movie -- just the line, not the title.

French tenses of verbs, conjugations in Latin,

A cocktail dress that was hot pink satin.

"Nice to see you again," I stall and I bluff.

From where? What's the name? Don't remember that stuff.

Not senile, Alzheimer's or other such doom,

I just have a feeling my brain's out of room.

All that data in there slows down the synapses

My hard drive needs purging before it collapses.

The brain is like a computer they say,

So where's the delete key hidden away?

Attention Silicon Valley nerds --

With you I'd like to have a few words.

Forget gizmos and gadgets. They've grown to be dull.

Develop a program to sort out my skull.

Nothing painful or evil -- no robots please.

But something to access my data with ease.

Organize, file and maybe a copy.

How do you download your brain to a floppy?

That's your assignment. Call when you're through.

I hope I recall what I asked you to do.