Packing for Orleans 20150223

Letting go, taking hand to pictures, papers, and binder

Retrieving documents out of brown cardboard moving boxes

In their fifth subsequent location since the divorce

Six years and relocated into full size black garbage can bag

Read through, perused, glanced in some cases upon extrication

But if it is not part of my daily life I do not want its physical in my presence

The binder with the details of the construction of the porch house

The window advertisement from the magazine from a decade before

Dreams in paper evidential matter to retry this case in my head

To prove it to who; our older daughter, my future person, people 

Wrote the novel wanted the tower of tales to say

Look, look townsfolk I was right, I was telling the truth

Here is the liar’s churn see I was loved once and betrayed,

Betrayed people don’t you get that carrying around my pillory

Like some Catholic taint of value through suffering equating to worthiness

Fuck that; get in the trash bag

It is in the cans now; to the street, to the landfill

The act of the anchor even in a box in a closet taped up as worthless memories

There is malignancy that did not equate to zero; the knowing I could return

To rewash in the substantiation if need be as if this time is still in the now

Sever and truncate the pages of years

Found the tooth accident, the legal docs from court cases

The birthday and anniversary cards and notes, every family picture from my grandparents

With her in it or I ever took; in the bag, don’t want one, a few for our daughter

In a separate book, for her in her room, that’s it, rest garbage, dead, no savor, no linger

Half a dozen years is enough as an option, these things must depart for the space of in

I don’t want to say to myself why are you holding this; this binder of “Our Story”

There are no collective possessive pronouns that include said people

The passive aggression, the lies, the claim of what true forgiveness is to bleed into the self

To feel there is no need to explain; there is no need to pretend the court case is present

That each day the red queen court convenes and that worthiness was ever in question

Letting go, taking hand to pictures, papers and binder; full size black garbage can to the curb