Friday, May 21, 2010


In every piece of stinky trash

Discarded histories lie within.

Symbols of triumphs, memories of failures,

Regrets, hopes and things that had-been.

A scribbled note has a story to tell:

This grocery list was essential in preparing a meal

Who was the guest? How was the food?

At the end of the night, how did it feel?

The best journal keepers are those we despise

The pack-rats that save everything and take up our space.

Their lives are knots of stinky memories

And in their rotting mounds of compost, everything has a place.

Memories are garbage.

Memories are precious.

We learn from memories

And memories bury us.