i went back to december 1992
and i looked at –
what i had written
in days when i was seventeen
and i wrote ‘rock ‘n’ roll’ poetry

have you seen the world lately
its tears
cannot quench the wildfires
that continue to burn

if you want some advice
as i rummage through my life
and if i think about my own experiences
then all i can say,
is do not bend and alter you shape

i have been written off –
a thousand times
inappropriately cast in a thousand plays
where i never knew my lines
and i could not improvise what to say

everything new and shiny
try the more rounded rocks
of windswept middle age
you work on yourself like the best sculptors
bet your know you are already made