Thursday, October 31, 2013

To suffer it all again

It has always been obvious
to my lovers and children,
to comrades and friends,
that I am an angry man.

I didn’t start that way,
or mean to be like that.
I was never made by anyone
to be other than who I am.

How I got that way remains
beyond my comprehension
and expressions of regret
have been too long delayed.

Confession helps, of course,
but memory makes a better bridge
to a second life in joy and dance
and boiling blood and small victory.

Anger abides as always,
but bends before the recurring wish
to jazz it up once more,
to suffer it all again. 

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