Just Enough Souvenirs.
I have made (more than) my share of mistakes,
bad choices, errors and messes.
It is a bit staggering when I think of it
and more staggering still
when someone calls me a good man.
I have improved I think.
I rarely make the same mistake twice.
Not me. I am a man of imagination,
always discovering new ways to be wrong,
leaving me with a cluttered life
with so, so much to throw away,
Keeping just enough souvenirs
to be certain I never
believe my own press.
About this poem
Someone called me “a good man” today. That phrase always makes me a little uncomfortable. I am just a guy, figuring it out as I go, fully aware of my capability to get it wrong, a living battle between history and grace.