The self-help guru on public television
during the seemingly endless fund-raising-
spring-into-summer-drive stated with
certitude that in order to get things right
we have to take ourselves apart and put
ourselves back together again, so I started
with my asthmatic lungs which gave me
fits for years but have been under control
for a long time, but, what the heck, I thought,
if I can get new lungs, let’s go for it. Then
the other replacement parts came fast —
knees, hair, cajunas (preferably big and brass).
Then memories. Do I ditch the bad ones? How
about that suicide in the family? How about
the premature death of my wife? How about
keeping dad and throwing out mom? What
am I crazy? I can’t take all that apart and start…
over. I wouldn’t be me. I can’t cast out my
demons, but I can forgive them and ask them
for forgiveness, disarm them and befriend
them. Then my demons and my angels and I
can go for a trail jog or maybe watch a mystery
on Masterpiece, if ever this blasted fund-raiser
would end. Thank you very much, but I’ll
just continue to be me, although there is
that matter of the cajunas, big and brass.