WHAT HAS PAST

Grinning with fists,
my fingers rest
on a keyboard, but
it might as well
be a Ouija board.
Each word summons
the next;
some neuron
remembering
what has past.

Writing my memoirs,
I am a séance unto
myself.
Grinning with fists,
forgetting
is useless.
What haunts me
is not the present.
What has past
has so much more
presence than the
present.

written on 03/23/2014 by: Matt Kane