(we
learn from the times that we are cursed
that things cannot be
reversed – from the band
daughter and their song
candles)
a
memoir, autobiography
written
in the twilight years
recollecting
moments, memories
of
childhood
not
sure i ever would
unless
one were able
to
reflect the events
with
the same innocence
ignorance
we
possessed as kids
trying
to tell you about
something
when i was five
trying
to understand why
psychoanalyze
through
ancient jaded eyes
is
not a true telling
of
when the moment matter
how
can my mind
from
a million moments since
tell
you what a five year old
finds
when first discovering a spider
my
present chasm is wider
and
any innocuous innocence
fenced
by inexperience
cannot
be remade
with
a present day theme
where
my accumulation
of
nightmares and dreams
make
me feel like
an
insect trapped
within
a webbing scheme
helplessly,
fearfully watching
the
approaching spider
formidable
fangs five feet long
the
me who wrote my first poem
is
buried under the sediment
which
if this fossil tried to excavate
could
only find fragments
of
the skeleton
of
the boy i use to be
carefully
pieced together
in
a laboratory
reconstructing
just enough
that
all history is just a theory
there’s
a reason eye witness accounts
can
be cross examined
and
memories, at best
are
the verdict of a hung jury
***
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