Shredded Times

On a shrediing tear

Let’s see what’s left of the overly ambitious and forever

doomed to expire coupons, nagging unredeemed

receipts, disappointing printouts for hopelessly worthy

causes, important junk mail, abandoned daily schedules full

of unlikely schemes, embarrassing parking tickets flirting with

farfetched formulas and disillusioned delusion, awkward

pauses, hysterical assumptions, pretentious plans plus

a recipe I will never make, impossible dreams, undiluted

hypocrisy, muddled medical bills, personal information that

is too personal, unrequited love, something I have always been

completely ashamed of, a really bad day that I can never do over,

and a single sheet of blank paper, wrinkled beyond use.

NaPoWriMo #24

I’m writing a poem every day in April as part of NaPoWriMo’s celebration of National Poetry Month. Won’t you join me in poetry?

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6 thoughts on “Shredded Times

  1. This is great! For one thing, the photo. You know my love of black-and-white. So of course this stark and eloquent sculpted look is poetry to my eyes. The precision of the black frame is a nice contrast to the random effect of the scraps.

    The images in your words accumulate just like the papers you count in your litany of trash. It’s a wonderful sense of build-up both physical and non-physical. You have touched on so much of life as it does indeed exist in that paper: disappointment, embarrassment, pretense, awkwardness, abandoned dreams and loves. The listless shreds at the bottom of the wastebasket seem to echo the weariness in the poem. Nicely done.

    1. Who would have thought that shredding could be artistic, but hey I’m desperate. Actually, it was fun to play around with the tunnel created by the wastebasket and the graphic lines on the long strips of paper. I don’t own one of those confetti paper shredders. And I think I like your explanation better than the poem itself, Maureen!

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