Narrative for an Ex [poem] by David Breeden

Fact is, there’s no fact (of
the matter or otherwise),
only whatever happened
retold whichever way
the threads tumble.

There we are, walking
in a parking lot, cool
in the morning air,
talking about a future.

One of us is lying, or
at best confused.

That’s the fact: there
is no fact. Only a
narrative beveled to
suit a circumstance—

sometimes to another
lover, sometimes to
stop a cringing pain,

sometimes recreation
over wine when it—
the image and the
touch of soft morning—
wafts from synapses
for no reason at all.

The reality is there is
no reality. Only our past
in tatters reworked to
a circumstance of now,
adjusting, pinning then

to wear to another
morning. Another
lover. Another try
at saying it true.


Image of 1930s Switchboard Operator

[Refer: This poem refers to Sheila Black’s poem “Poem for an Ex.”]

Rev. Dr. David Breeden has a, M.F.A. in poetry from The Iowa Writers’ Workshop, and a Ph.D. from the Center for Writers at the University of Southern Mississippi, with additional study in writing and Buddhism at Naropa Institute in Boulder, Colorado. Breeden has published four novels and thirteen books of poetry, the newest titled They Played for Timelessness (With Chips of When).
He blogs at and tweets at @dbreeden.

Image by GollyGforce