24 Nov 2018 poem

More Blue Tail Lizards, Please

A couple roaches scurry
under a rock
and the moist earth below it
after I move the garbage bin
from its normal spot by the house
to the curb for collection.

It is the same with bad memories
that wish to remain alive in the present—
they find dark hiding places
out of sight, often
under my tongue to prevent their naming.

If you listen carefully to my words,
you will hear those dark memories skitter about
the underside of my sentences and exhalations.

But, what can I say or do,
they are part of my personal ecology
and have a purpose not always clear
to you or me.

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