I write in the basement in the wee hours,
and I plan on putting it all together.
I want files upon files on the hard drive.

I store the files and then open new ones.
I don’t revise.
I don’t look at the old stuff.
If I told one story, I’ve told it 100 times.

Just now I hit alt+save
to guard against a lightning bolt.
I have just now changed the formatting of the font
and then did alt+save again.

I will name names. I will talk about my first kiss.
I will run down the events of my father’s disappearance.
I will showcase a handful of happy memories of childhood,
the racy love affairs of my 20s, my marriage, our son.
I will pair the large issues of marriage and family
with the minutiae of my hobbies.

I will be endearing.
You’ll learn why I am the character I am.
You will weigh that against larger quirks,
some of them a little unsavory.

I have made allowances, and so must you.

I will focus on the big and the small of my life.
Not because it was all such a masterpiece,
but because it all led to the events of the past year
that have given my life some clarity, some precision.

Its meaning.

Pfefferle, W.T. The Meager Life and Modest Times of Pop Thorndale. Rochester Hills (MI): NFSPS Press, 2007.