song of myself II (the infinitely suckier sequel)

(the assignment was to write a 4-stanza poem describing yourself.
what the hell.
i tried to keep this one light on the teenage angst.)

someday i would like to save a life.
i would like to stitch up a wound,
take a bullet,
grab someone's hand on the golden gate bridge,
write something meaningful —
if it's not too much to ask.
my role is boy 1.
he's always smiling.
forgive me if i drop character every now and then.

i am a child of punk rock.
i want to be there,
sweaty bodies, all my friends, pressing in —
punched in the jaw by rosy-cheeked housewives,
kicked in the gut by brand-new shopping malls,
we are all so eager to carry each other on our backs.
one by one we take the mic and say,
"this is what i believe."
this is what i believe:

i believe that people are good.
i believe that music saves lives.
i believe in questioning authority,
universal healthcare,
giant particle accelerators,
and young adult fiction.
but most importantly:
i believe.
it's just that sometimes
i meet someone who doesn't believe in me.

at times like this
(this evening, the role of the victim will be played by riley richards)
i go home and watch pinocchio.
pinocchio is my favorite movie because
the ending always makes me feel a little better about my chances.
(do you think it's strange:
last year i wrote a song of myself,
but now i have nothing to say.)