new poem, untitled

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

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


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