Day 19 – You Are

You are
a mountain of pillows
after a long day.

You are
a long-awaited
Friday-night margarita.

You are
my pizza pal.

You are
a warm bath
and
a sounding board
and
a hug.

You are
common sense
when I’ve lost it.

You are
a surprise
every day

and

you are
mine.

I am
just
lucky.

Day 18 – Mormons

Maybe I shouldn’t have said all that
about the magic underwear
and the magic gold tablets

and maybe I shouldn’t have laughed
when you said they
“ascended back into the heavens.”

I probably shouldn’t have asked
if you got here
on a bike.

I didn’t have to take your book
but I knew it meant
someone else
wouldn’t read it.

I’m sorry your beliefs are
foreign and hilarious to me
since I claim to be so tolerant

but you rang my bell
and you asked for it.

Day 17 – Sick Day

There is nothing that a doctor
could find wrong with me-

so I cannot get a note.
But I’m staying home
anyway.

I’ve got a fever of the mind
I can’t prove,
yet I feel

heavy,
collapsed from the inside,
tense
from holding steady
too long.

There is a seed of grief
I have to tend to
before it grows big,

a sadness which wonders
at all the scuttling,
all the getting by.

“Am I getting lost?”

I know this road too well,
I know the cost,
I know the cure,

and today I’m calling out
to fix myself.

Day 15 – Kings

What do you do
when you are small
and the world is unfair?

What do you do
when you can’t stand up,
can’t prove it,
can’t speak out,

but can’t keep on
the same way anymore?

What do you do
when you’re right
but no one cares?

What do you do
when they’ll laugh if you quit
but keep spitting if you carry on?

Do you turn to stone?
Do you just go mad?

Do you write a poem
and call it a day?

Are we all going to die
like this
either way?

Or are some of us
really
born kings?

Day 14 – Waking Up Early For School

After thirteen years
and four more
there was no escape from school
for me.

I walked right back into that fire.

It has its perks but
I’ll never get used to knowing
I’ll be waking up early for school
for the rest of my life.

At least
there’ll always be
kids
to teach me.

Day 13 – How Many Syllables in ‘Tokyo’?

He asks if I can put down my phone
but I say it’s very important
what I’m looking up.

I have to find out
how many syllables
are in ‘Tokyo’.

He says that’s not very important
right now.

It isn’t.

But it is.

If I don’t find out,
and prove that some answers
can be found,
I’ll be left to face
some other things,
the answers I’ll never find

like why the fog comes.
Like why am I confused and angry
when nothing’s wrong?
Why do they call it a sickness sometimes
and others a snowflake complaint?

I’ll tell you what I know:

if you pronounce it in Japanese (To-kyo)
it’s two syllables,
but we Americans
pronounce it as three. (To-ky-o)