I’m infused with the day
even tho the day may destroy me.
—John Wieners
I’ve watched the news, and
like every week’s lately it’s
big news, nerve-wracking
news, stuff happens in one
singular day that could be
all of the headlines for a
month. And sure, today’s
news, while big, or its big
gest news, as news relates
to me, as my interest in the
news, news junky that I am,
exists, found me breathing
easier, the accumulated
burden that I’ve been
carrying (I’m not alone,
with regard to this one
thing, there are millions of
us carrying this weight)
feeling lighter, a palpable
vertically-rejuvenated gait
combines with whatever
swagger I premeditate
and then perform, has me
feeling perhaps ten years
younger. And, oh, ten
years ago. If I stop what
I’m doing just to hark back
for a moment, I can
begin to understand that
massive portion of the
population that seem
ever-bent, necks twisted,
looking backwards, lost
in the fog of nostalgia.
Lost in a fog is my own
odd state given my bent
to spend so much time
glaring at the past and
examining my present.
But I don’t do this to
lose myself in the glory
days of youth. I think
of it more as a scientific
approach toward what’s
to come, the future. It’s
limited (meaning in duration,
not edition), and elsewise
nothing but a dry run. I’d
like to make the best of it.
To make it my best. It
hasn’t always worked out,
but I shudder to imagine
who I’d be if this hadn’t
been the way I twist for
all these years. When
driving, one cannot
spend a lot of time
looking backwards
is just my experience.
Right ahead happens to
be my primary line of focus.
