the first bite of an Arby's roast beef sandwich
the girl you didn't call
the car you didn't pay for
Van Morrison on the radio
wind in your hair, meat between your teeth
the dog that doesn't leave your side
a Sunday with nothing planned
a 3some on a single bed
words that make sense only to you
the winning lottery ticket you lost
a cold beer in a tall glass
the God that doesn't bother you
the song you know the words for
the ping of your phone
the drug that gets you mostly there
the fire that dances in the light wind
the mouse you rescued and didn't kill
the bong of the gong
the dada gaga dodo
a language of your own that
you are always relearning
a poem finished or
a poem burning.
Post-script: there is a surreal aspect to our likes, our desires, what completes us. Camus’ absurdist claim over life - to live beyond a specific, generic purpose and to live in your individuality. Read my Gagaism. A Manifesto. My own mission statement for the poetic embrace.