if you were to do it all again, what would be different:
i would have done it all again but with fists and rage and sensibility
i would’ve done it right and made no wrong turns: i would’ve been unstoppable.
i would’ve been a cop, a detective, a us marshal, a professor, a poet.
i would’ve died protecting a judge, died stopping a robbery, disabled because i tripped down a flight of stairs in the projects.
i would’ve died clutching a bottle, would’ve spent many nights alone staring out into empty streets long abandoned by youth.
i would be here all over again, but with nothing.
so no. i wouldn’t do it all over again. i would leave it just as it is. with their hugs and shrill laughter and her gentle touch. i’d leave it just like this despite everything i could’ve been.