post-Katrina painting by Tuni Bose, from a photograph by Mary Bradley Virre
Old sweaters, sneakers, beach towels and blankets,
college texts, ill intentions, forgotten dreams,
odd bits of poetry we once thought pretty but really were pretty bad,
passages torn out of notebooks that were meant to define
and ended up
misrepresentative and misanthropic, even maudlin.
Better to pass them on, throw them out, no reason to rinse or even refurbish them.
Just put them in the big, heaping dustbin,
or straight into that corner of the basement,
into the boxes with the rest of the discards.
Only the weather can remind of things we meant to save.