As Always, Back Always To The Bad.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

we promise, soon, tomorrow
we shall all be good, we

had made promises, soon,
we shall all be good, not

minding other people's business,
not pecking on weak people,

not concentrating only on
ourselves, closing doors and

watching the world go by,
motions of rain falling and

leaves blown away by strong
winds, or waves galloping on

shores into fractured sands,
where to? sometimes i make you

lost, as you track me down, i
change direction, i want to go

back to my innate goodness, but
where to? it is always going back

to bad, and this i tell truly
to myself, i am getting back

to bad, and sometimes i reflect
i am not that hundred percent

bad, for at least at this moment
i recognize this fact, i am back

to bad and it is the truth and
nothing but the truth, and here

i am satisfied: this goodness in
me and as i clap my hands alone

in this lonely activity: by all
means whatever happens, i still

know that innate goodness, knowing
that i have gone bad and telling

such truth to me, and to this
corner, these words.

i make a promise again, i tell
the truth, and tomorrow, i will


be good. I beat my chest with
my two fists.