I have a magic eraser that’s filled with every word that’s been written in chalk, grease board ink, desert dust daydream of the rich lost classroom. It’s lighter than a lesson, and heavier than a hand grenade. I toss it into the air. I toss it into the din. I toss it to you for every word you should have but got it wrong. You toss it back, erasing everything I should have better, erasing me. The eraser erases the eraser. That’s what writers do writing ourselves, erasing.

CRAIG CZURY lives in Scranton Pa where he conducts weekly online Life Writing From Cyberia workshops.