Clean-Slate Days

Everyday
I begin a new day, a virgin and impervious day.
Clean hands.  Fresh start.
Square one.

And I call these days-
With the frustration and back-tracking ataxia of a child
Lost in the supermarket-
Clean-slate days.

I return on these days
To the beaten path which will chaperon me
In a step-motherly, coquettishly way toward the becoming
Concert of a masterpiece.

And I (re)claim: I am in existence now!
Always with one foot in the door,

I go about making the bed I sleep in, singing to myself
Under the flow of the shower, lighting
An incense in ceremony.

I vow: no more mistakes, even to learn from!
And every moment I make that mistake

Or cave in
To watching another unsavory pornography, I ask:
Why am I the quintessence of irony?

The hardship of clean-slate days is
Not the question: “How did I get so dirty?”
But: Why
Can’t I get clean just as quickly?

Erik Ta was raised in Tustin, CA, and received his BA in Communication from the University of Southern California.  He is an artist with Buffaloes Collaborative and a struggling communicator. myspace.com/buffaloescollaborative

© 2009, Erik Ta