the washing

I take out
my brain and wring it
as hard as I can
to get the bad stuff out.
I take it
down to the river
and beat it against
the rocks.
I twist and turn
it like a wet towel
full of tears
and angst.
I want to be done with
these memories
this past parade
of fools and jesters,
so full of pranks.
I clean it
out, shake it free of
all these doubts.