Secrets

What am I supposed to do with secrets? The ones that other people tell me, but want others to know. I wish i could write a book of secrets and trade them with other people. We will have the secrets of people we don't know and everybody will be pleased that their secret is known...without any harm.
I went to a poetry reading and finally realized that I should revise my poems every so often. I think we are going to be dead poets soon and everywhere the world is living and we're still holding on to our words. We should write and forget. Then write more.
Here is another poem I have to revise.

Eating at Los Comales
reminded me of my dad
a place where
waitresses in tight pants
and shirts
serve tacos estilo mexicano
behind the ritmo of talking
I ate alone
and thought i might
see my father in front
with another son
better maybe worse
we would just stare
at each others brown face
and i'd keep eating
and then i would remember
I like walking at the pulga
like my mom does
i thought
but it was really my father