Hastily scripted poetry offered as a pseudo-birthday gift to the homie, written in part during end of grade testing, as a precursor to the real gift that is coming.
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i am already four steps in to a five step plan leading to a life of all beach house
of morning mimosas followed by catnaps and writing these papers for fun
a chef
perfecting made-from-scratch waffles to accompany this afternoon's chicken
and a bride in the corner, with special skill sets, mixing this evening's drinks
this is the vision
clear as a list on a whiteboard
floating in memory as first defense
to your question
here is the answer
i will do as i have been doing
i will appease this promise in the pit of stomach in whatever way i see i fit
namely
i will fall in love again
harder than before if it can be helped
use the heartwood to fuel my hustle
then write enough poems about all of it to catapult me headlong into the fifth and final step
"retire to fucking fiji"
and there will be no guest house
no strangers among us
namely
there will be no regrets
just an open-flamed sunset and handful of poems
as evidence for a life well-spent
**tear**
ReplyDeletei love this. really.
happy freakin' bday to me.