Map Wrapping Paper A Poem, Please Read, A Friend Says My Best Yet?

A poem, please read, a friend says my best yet? - map wrapping paper

A torn, ragged, an old leather jacket,
Wrinkles and folds, refer to my first love.
A photo of my brother, the last before the war,
and the number of lovers, whose contributions I ignore.
A liqueur glass of rum and my first Coke
smoke and a slight vacuum, my first.
A newspaper obituary about a man who does not know
and photographs of places, I was not.
A personal T-shirt, my first official act,
my new home first, a brass doorknob.
My notebook filled with poetry,
dry pasta, I never learned to cook.
A wedding ring, my second divorce,
( "Separation" has little of course).
A bicycle tire, I have never Rode
sent a key to the house, not the residence of MI.
A screwTree house, my father and I
the first payroll was paid for me.
And hanging from a necklace, a whiff of beer Heinekin,
My first trip to New York to a crumpled map.
Years ago, he was gone, a touch of my laptop
And a bracelet with wire wrapped around a new principle.