And Still We Wrap Ourselves Warm With It, Cause It's All We've Got

Sometimes when you spread out the great quilt of your life
and take a long look at it,

Its clashing colors and tattered edges,
its blood-red center,
the one clear line that is suddenly derailed by a renegade stitch,
the many awkward triangles and all of the big vacant holes,

It quickly becomes clear that only a gossiping gaggle
of arthritic psychopaths could have woven such a mess.

July 2009

Stockton, CA