Monday, August 13, 2012

It wasn’t me this time

 I hate the idea of it
but it wasn’t me this time
The kid the cops caught
On fourth street
Trying to blow up
The mayor’s lawn ornaments
With gun powder
I made from my chemistry set
I spent a life time blowing things up
Just to see what things looked like
Pieces of pottery
Falling down around me
Like so much snow,
Knowing that this one time
I wasn’t the culprit
and hating the idea
that anyone might be,
air thick with the shards
of my unresolved guilt
glad that this one time
I’m not to blame
Sad that anyone is
After all these years
I ache to put
The pieces back together
And just can’t find them all
Or figure out
What order they go in.

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