My Walls

You might not know this, but I am not a person that takes it one day at a time. I will not invoke Latin to seize hold of this auspicious day. In fact, opportunities can be too fleet for my tired and timid fingers.

I have an envelope of small black and white pictures of that one person I wanted to share the rest of my life with. Sometimes it's enough just to hold them under my thumbs when I get that strangled feeling that I will never be loved again.

When I talk to my little daughter, I can hear my voice in her anger. She deals with so much. I also hear her resent growing like a tumor, and I lay with open eyes at night wishing I could do a damn thing from thousands of miles away.

You might not know it, but every city is populated with the same basic people. They are the folks you seen in public and who only intercede in minor ways. They share facial features and mannerism, its frightening to hear the public talk.

I’m afraid that I was a burden to my parents...

Sometimes I meet a person exactly like the girl in the tight white envelope. You weren't that unique. Anybody can learn to hurt.

Sometimes I think about how hard it is for a guy to disappear. You gotta start over on occasion, just declare bankruptcy and get yourself a new face on the other side of the sea. It should be a joy, but there is a big national record with your ass print on file.

Someday she will find me, I know she will, just for her own ego.

She will say; how was life all this long time without me (because we could have been beautiful); and my careful reply would intone the years we have spent apart since I abandoned her with her baggage and dirty secret. I would say, I never went a moment without you; but thank you for never hurting me again.

I repeat my mantra; I will not desire the undesirable.