looking at a photo of myself dated 1981
The art of living is the art of knowing how to believe lies." -Cesara Pavese
The art of living is the art of learning to forget lies,
chipping them off like dried mud from skin, hoping
somewhere beneath, if enough layers peel away,
lives a core of truth abandoned years before.
This little girl does not yet know why she can't talk
to strangers; has never walked down a night-filled street
listening for footsteps; never heard of Vietnam,
how her father worked for a war he couldn't agree with
or understand. She has not learned the feel of late
nights in back seats, or doubted God during desperate
wonderings in smokey neon diners, or know that she
will grow up to write poems. She knows only
that she is learning to read; the words sound truest
when she lays her head on her mother's chest to hear
their hollow echoing through the dull thumping heartbeat.
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