...paper memories...

I logged each day's activity

as if I would be called upon at some point

to prove the worth of my existence

YES

(you see how it is written declared and shown)

I DESERVE TO BE HERE

how sad

this sheaf of former days

shall I make confetti

rip shred jumble and tumble into disarray

these preciously precise rows of neatly penciled data

should I burn them in sacred ritual of ceremony

solemn, thoughtful, deeply meditating

upon the eternal futility

inwardly (and uselessly) resolve to "let go" the same

as I watch the smoke rise

wander away upon the air to nothing

if only I could

burn away

the memory of these former days

every associated face in my mind,

tragic moments of lost hope, sullen obedience, anxious hesitation,

every foolish and bull-headed mis-step,

each slightly- less- than- fatal dot

comprising eventually the portrait of my

eviction notice

go directly away

do not pass GO

and don't ever come back

these former days

what am I to do with these broken bits of my pitiful life?

surely they could simply be stuffed circular file fashion

let the garbage department decide

where and how to dispose of

this useless sheaf

former days

(previously and puntucally completed)

(no longer necessary)

Paid In Full

yes certainly they should be scattered

smudged, drowned, churned

mangled

Nothing

but

Death

can erase their mental counterpart

carved pounded chiseled stone neural grooves

welded iron and steel immutable into

part of

the me that I know as me

and so bless them or curse them either way

I have the right to Be where I Am

I deserve to be Here

.

.

.

~Faye Manning

[[..Th.23.Nov.2k..]]

Thanksgiving Day

Thankful for my ("pitiful") Life

...peace...