Let Go

Let go, he tells himself.

You don’t count at all.
You haven’t for a while.
Words count (the speaking
of words is an action and counts
no matter the proverb).

A lot of good people
have been bastards,
he tells himself.  Let go
the ties and be.  Cut
words loose: write or say
four, pull back two. Do not
neglect the rage,
let go of it. Free it.

Qualification,
he tells himself, is pure
falsehood.
Justification contains
too many syllables
to waste. Let go, sharpen,
make a blunt object,
poison a well. 

Let go, he tells himself.
You’re too old not to.
It’s expected now,
your job practically.
Customize at your risk —
words don’t demand
anything beyond utterance.
They will fail you,
of course.  Let go,
fall as they may fall.
How far your fate is
from the top is
uncertain.  Let go.
Find out.