What I bring to the table
All the money I’ve made in this world:
a small bag of dull coins.
All the stories I’ve never written,
in a book of blank pages.
All the poems I couldn’t write.
The names of everyone who has left me:
I didn’t realize there’d been so many.
All my defeats, about ten thousand of them,
and my three victories, two of them disputed.
My expired Driver’s License.
My passport with the corner cut off.
My big bag of medications.
I’m all ready to bargain with you.
I think I’m in a pretty strong position.