Fight Night
This memory or that one?
Maybe someone else's memories
would suit me better.
So tired of carrying the past around
like Big Bird tossed over my shoulders
yellow feathers blocking my view.
I'd rather write about memories
than commit them to paper.
Like two days ago.
We circle around like tired prizefighters
in the ring again.
I'm a heavyweight, he's no flyweight,
and what a reach!
I remember yesterday, the day before
and 40 years ago.
Take your pick.
Take your pick.
November 13, 2015
prompt: memory poem
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