after writing
my life
i edit
my atmosphere
rearrange reality and her spaces
to save words
to harness the power of breath
to remove unneeded pieces
a curator of live audio visual
life decor
i cut entire sections
months and years as stanzas
simply deleted
like old acquaintances
shoes with irreparable holes
underwear elastic worn out
i find it difficult
to throw away memories
nostalgia its own intoxication
all a sore soul has
when cold and sober
recounting poor decisions
a backspace is much easier than
forgiveness
moving on is much easier said
when never done
i’m still here
trying to moonwalk love
back to what it was
while appearing to step ahead
progress my favorite illusion
poetry my best magic
life never a poem
always poetic and
too strong
for drinking
JBT 