In honor of the first day of National Poetry month, I have, yes, a poem.
I’m still messy and ignoring details
regardless of where God is located.
I still have a vote without every bit
of salient information
I’ still move through the world
as if I own it
as if it’s mine.
but it’s borrowed really.
I’m still not working hard enough
the house is not clean enough
I don’t love enough
I still don’t know what the hell
enough looks like.
I don’t know if I have ever
held enough in my hands
I still carefully anticipate outside validation
as if the magazine staff from O
will come to my house and say Yes,
this is what we mean when we shout
your best life.
I work daily on the win
I’m still figuring out the rule book that
unfolds like a AAA map
and cannot be returned to the original state
no matter how long I work on the origami of the thing
After all these years
the talent portion of the program
is only smiling
and making do.
More on how you can participate in National Poetry Month on Monday, when we’ve figured out we’re actually in a new month.