i don't know what to do with myself.
obligations, duties,
so far away and feckless;
half of me feels born again
but the other half
slowly
sinks
i went looking for adventure but
my lai in the morning
was far too difficult;
i do not have the courage
to stop them
(i cannot fly a helicopter or command a platoon
or stand between the horsemen and the refugees;
and even if i did, i would just die of cancer
forty years later like a normal kid.)
it's okay.
it's too late for me already.
go use your helicopters and chemotherapy
on someone who's brave enough to want them.
one day i might be a doctor or a teacher or a fireman
or something.
first i'll go to college and then grad school and then
i'll get a nice safe career
wife but no kids
a pet cat who lays on my stomach when i'm sick.
can you tell me how to get there?
apparently i can find the way by finding the will but
my will is smarter than i am it
saw how fucked this situation is and it
ran away laughing.
i'm young
i am so young
it's been a hundred years since i knew what i wanted
3 comments:
is this about you?
it is good but it is also sad.
oh.
also you will be glad to know that:
1. i found your lunchbox sitting next to the tree outside when i came out of my piano lesson tonight.
and sad to know that:
2. my sideburns had to be killed for the sake of historical accuracy in my play.
so this is the sort of thing that makes me think about war movies and whether or not obama and hillary can stop the world from hating us and if it would be better or worse to become a singer or an engineer.....
good one.
Post a Comment