I’m Trying to Be Perfect Again.
A poem, in 25 minutes.
I’m trying to be perfect again. It’s aspirational. it’s good to try,
except
can I accept, the imperfection, the flawed attempts?
I’m trying to be perfect again.
Which means: having something to say
and saying it well
and in the right way.
(except -
idontknow.idontknow.it’snotdone.
I’mtrying,fuckthetrying
callitquits itsshit its
thirteen more minutes. keepongoing. go on.
on to the next word. the next phrase. the next thought.
i don’t know what I am saying. so what.
nine more minutes. this is practice. this is learning. this is life.
imperfectly in process. imperfectly in form. it doesn’t have to rhyme.
i ate too much cake again. i made a mistake again. i procrastinated and watched dumb tv tilfour am again.
i had no control, no discipline or common sense again.
these things happen, but i will not let that cause me shame again.
I was trying to be perfect. It’s insatiable
that desire to do it all.
except
i will accept
that the trying is enough.
and i’m learning (slowly learning)
to simply keep on
showing up.
