Glass Plan

To run a marathon, write
a book, publish
a poem, make
love to a woman, join
a commune, find
a home, see the world,

to call it a day
is to spin my own

epitaph on a 3 x 5
note card, index
my breath, become obsessed
with chasing my own
past, is to take
a long ride on a train.


All exits are emergency
escapes from moments
that have died.
Write tiny epitaphs

for each and be accused
of living in the past. Without
them there would be
no future. The time has come

to forgive
our younger selves.