Day 221 – Nothin’ Wrong Wid Us

Five girls on the lineup, none of us blonde,
I guess maybe that’s the problem.

We all got degrees, we all got jobs
and none of us got a text back.

The men must be waiting for a firestorm
or the men are chicken-shit.

If they’d asked they might’ve learned that we
are an army of treadmill dancers,
Scrabble champions, bargain hunters,
tech-savvy readers with our glasses on,
smooth operators with our high heels on,
nonsense shredders with our work pants on,
and nobody’s lovesick fools.

We take wine together to commiserate-
I mean, commemorate-
what we already know:
there ain’t nothin’ wrong wid us.

We don’t necessarily believe it
but together we know the truth:
there ain’t nothin’ wrong wid us.

And we try to be valiant
when the world says “make him wait”
and the world says “make your move”
and we’re sick of the head games
and we’re sick of the numbers game
and they say when you’re completely frozen
that’s when the firestorm comes.

And we don’t dare ask when
there’s nothin’ wrong wid us.

Day 220 – Prerequisite Experiences Including But Not Limited To

You want magic,
I know,
but you won’t get it.

And that’s not my bitter heart lashing out,
I’m not glad about the way that it works,

but I’m afraid
I’ve seen
too much.

Oh, there’s magic in you, absolutely there is,
like there’s magic in seeds but
that takes work and time and
that’s not the magic you want.

You want magic that’s easy
and you believe in it because
it’s extraordinary-
well, it would be
if it were easy.

But there’s an order to magic,
in the way that no man
can have bread without planting
the grain,
in the way that we should rejoice
for we cannot die without having

Magic can give you a step
when all you had was a stone,
if you know just where to place it
but that’s all it can do.

You want magic,
I know,
but it won’t come to you
’til the prerequisites have been met,
when you’ve made of your stones
a ladder to the heavens
and climbed it without any help.

Magic will come when you’ve forgotten it
but it will not come to you.

Day 219 – Peppermint Tea And Dry Elbows

Peppermint tea
for the rest of my life-
some things I know for sure,
for sure,

and probably always dry elbows-
what I shall be, shall be.

We talk of malleability but
if I don’t color my hair
it’ll turn grey anyway

and what does that mean?

When I come out on the
other side of knowledge
I’ll have different shoes
and may prefer chamomile then

but probably always dry elbows;
what I shall be, shall be.

I will not speak the same way
when I am older with silver hair
and my elbows may grow soft

but peppermint tea
for the rest of my life-
what I shall be, shall be.

Day 218 – Okay Ramblers

I haul it up in the morning,
look in the mirror,
check out those muscles,
mean-mug the day ahead-
it should fear me alright.

I’m all guns blazin’, baby,
I don’t stop
yellin’ “Okay Ramblers!”
out the window.

I am in a little world,
encased in whatever is possible to do,
so much more than those around me
but don’t I love the snow globe.

Every day is an action shot
in double time, forward motion-
I jump when I say jump,
all pistons firing,
all foam-darts loaded-
I don’t really intend to ever shoot
through any glass.

I wonder that anyone should ever peer through
and not laugh-
this wild young thing, hooting,
distorted convex in a clown mirror,
safe winning in protected lands.

I only hope that there are miles to go
before I sleep
though I can’t see myself that brave,
to fail-

all my strength is in always
suiting up:
“let’s get rambling!”
pew pew pew.

Day 217 – Losing Your Biggest Fan

Losing your biggest fan feels like
losing them all,
like nobody believes in you anymore
even though they all
still might.

There may be three thousand people
on the internet
who say nice things about you
when you never have nice things to write about
and they may think you’ve got the chops
when how can they know you

But your biggest fan,
the one who really understood
more than anybody else-
if you lose them it feels like
you’re in the world alone.

But you still sit down every day to write
though you can feel in your heart
they’re not reading anymore,
that your words were sent floating
but you don’t care where they land
because they’ll never reach those eyes
which won’t see.

And you hope with that practice,
that perpetual trying,
in the face of uncertainty,
that somebody somewhere
is getting something out of

And you beat your fists sometimes.

But the longer you struggle
the more peaceful it gets
and all of your fans, all of them
slowly disappear
from your mind, from importance,
from the room alone in you
where it matters.

So that if you strike an island
which is feared, where no man goes,
you’ll explore with the bravery
of a curious child
and your findings will hold
every beauty for you
and for you

So wish them well
who you’ve let down
because losing your biggest fan
just happens to be
the first step to finding
your biggest fan.

Day 216 – Sincerely

A woman who’s not ready to die

I sign it this way so you’ll know I mean it

A woman who wants to live

They tell me you’re coming to get me soon
But I hope that you’ll never find me
Because I know what you’ll do to me

Please don’t look for me

A woman who wants to stay lost

I’ve spent a lifetime building my world
And I don’t want to leave it yet-
There are still so many things left
For me to do

And you’d take it all away, I know,
The absolute ruin of my everything,
Thief of freedom, canceler of chances
Soft-spoken bearer of murderous news

Dear future husband,
Don’t look for me

Your future dead wife

Day 215 – Small Celebrations

“I was potty-trained twenty-three years ago,
I think this calls for a drink!”

“And I have a new haircut!”
“Well I got a raise!”
“Hey, I didn’t commit suicide last night!”

If you really tried you could find enough excuses
to party every day of your life.

And hell, why not?

You don’t wanna be like
those martyrs who think
they have to earn everything
but never really do
because they’re never impressed
by themselves.

They check ‘give birth’ or
‘win the presidency’
off their to-do lists
and have half a martini
after sunrise yoga
the next day.

Nobody’s much impressed by them
because nobody likes to feel impressed
by those sorts of rigid people.

But you and me,
we could clap our backs
over checking the mailbox this week!
It’s got to be a record
how many fish sticks we ate-
confetti and drinks all around!

And we’ll invite the neighbors
who each will have done at least
four commendable things today
and no one will put our doings
on a scale and say
whose weigh more
or less.

Because if saving the world
will mean nothing anyway
and merely settling into it
is cause for small celebrations

wouldn’t you rather be nice and drunk
when it ends?