I've Changed

People from my youth don't know me,
Or they don't know me the same way.
It's not that I've changed.
I'm the same person from underneath
A new, thick layer of scars
and facial hair and back fat
Of which I am not ashamed
and two layers of stories
One of which I am not ashamed.
This is the moss I have collected
Because I stopped moving all the time,
Because I'm not afraid of my future
Because I'm not afraid of my past,
Because I'm not afraid of who I am.

On a Pedestal

I don't think I know any heroes.
The people I know are dynamic.
They don't live on a pedestal.
They need room to move about their world.

I think I do know the hypocrites,
People who judge and demand,
Who put their own selves on a pedestal,
Where they die and grow still,
Not made out of marble,
Only ready to crumble.

A Pessimist's Pittsburgh Pirates

The old baseball club in the 'Burgh

That for years struggled hitting the curve

Started 2012 fast,

and the pace couldn't last,

But their fanbase, it seems, hasn't learned.

Why I Write, Part x+205: I Can Settle Down

Baseball was my first love,

and I will never again know passion

As I did playing football, while young,

But now that I write, I can settle down.

Writing is not one, but a hundred different games.

If you play the right ones, nearly all the rules change.

There are so many things to love about this art,

But here's a start:

I love that I can work on multiple projects

and nobody will claim that I am cheating.

I love that I can pay homage to my idols

and somebody will claim that I am stealing.

I love that I can cut the skin to the truths-meat,

Or spend two hundred pages lying honestly.

I love the word “whimsical,”

Which is itself whimsical,

But mostly I love that I've already written

Eighteen lines, without a goal or a reason,

and it's illegal for anybody to stop me.

My Forgiveness For Youthful Mistakes

I spent a few years with inadequate heating.

I spent most of my life taking all kinds of beatings,

Taking away my ability to run a good pace,

My ability to run with a smile on my face,

My ability to jump and land–taking my flight

–Taking away two inches of height.

I've spent the last fifteen years giving my body

What I think my mind deserves.

The Visceral Joy of Being a Teacher

I spend all day with the kids,

and I am never in the family.

They tell me more than they tell their parents,

An amount greater than almost nothing.

I am the teacher, the fairy stepfather.

I see them bury their enthusiasm

and then dig it up again.

Runners and Bridesmaids

Some runners are always runners-up.

Some bridesmaids are never brides,

But my knees and general anatomy

Have rendered me mercifully irrelevant

In all such matters.

I can stop writing one thing,

I can start writing another,

and all the time be a writer.