Editing at Night

The trick, you see,
is to be a better editor,
to cut out the scary parts
if they leave you awake at night

wondering if your world will end
or there are monsters under the bed
licking their chops, hungry for your soul.
It is hard, sometimes

to remember this is your story,
and all those who paint flawed portraits
see you only through their own mirrors,
like children in a fun house

your body and heart distorted beyond recognition.
but this will become your official biography.
unless you stand up
and speak.

About this poem

We tell our own stories. Or someone makes them up for us. Or worse, we disappear.

A little known fact is that I began my career doing, in part, video editing. I understand telling stories with pictures, and how one change, changes everything.

The picture was taken at the Washington County Antique Fair in Greenwich, NY, a couple of weekends ago.

I spend a lot of time at night, in my bed, playing back episodes, history and fantasy in my head. Seriously, sometimes it’s like being in a theater in there, with surround sound, technicolor, 3D, even smells. And all while I lay still, eyes closed. You’d never know. Unless I told you.

And somehow all those things came together into this poem. The mind is a miraculous thing, isn’t it?

Tom