https://www.podomatic.com/podcasts/charlespoet/episodes/2022-01-21T03_29_32-08_00
I can’t remember if I prayed.
I can’t remember if there’s a mask in my pocket.
I can’t remember if that condom from 1984 is still in my wallet.
I can’t remember if I loaded the chamber with actual bullets and not more Alec Baldwin blanks.
I can’t remember if I told her I loved her before I broke her heart.
I can’t remember if I’m still using the excuse that I’m an artist or if I’m finally admitting I am a scumbag.
I can’t remember if I cleaned the air fryer.
I can’t remember if I spoke out of turn for the millionth time.
I can’t remember if I looked back and if I did why I’m not now a pillar of Morton’s Salt.
I can’t remember if I shook it enough or if my boxers will again smell like pee.
I can’t remember if I closed your eyes after you breathed your last stuffed animal breath.
I can’t remember if it was me or you who decimated the mini bar and who
really cares when neither one of us has a proper credit card to cover
it.
I can’t remember if I paid the ferryman of Hades or if I still owe Death for all of my many misgivings.
I can’t remember if my passive aggression is warranted or if I’m just another prick who cannot find a sheath to fit into.
I can’t remember much of anything and that’s after I stopped smoking pot
and gave up all the many crutches that only hold you back from meeting
your destiny head on.
Charles Cicirella
1/20/2022
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