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The Back and Forth

11 Jan

Have I done all I can do? When the answer is “yes,” what else is there? What else? The echoing becomes my voice accusing me. Maybe, just maybe, I overlooked some loose-end. Maybe? Or did I do it on purpose, deceiving myself that I was ignorant? What else. What else. What else. ???

What did I leave out? What did I press too hard? It wasn’t my fault. Or was it? I’m not responsible. Or am I? Of course, I am. Not. Am. Not. Am.

There was a town in Alabama I passed through called Bug Tussle. I stopped at a ma and pop’s gas-station and asked how the town got its name. They said some folks had seen two bugs wrestling in the street, hence the name.

Call my mind that too.

Limericist, 2021

 
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Posted by on January 11, 2021 in Memoir, Poetry

 

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