Tomorrow, My Belly Has You

I want to be Bob Dylan
in my next life,
and evolve
and change
with the garlic in my pocket.

I want to call you
and have a conversation
about nothing
and then end on confidence
with an emoji-filled textmessage.

cool cool
and then the sun
will help me write
happy poems
about love
and life
for the first time
in a long time. 

sail a sign of deference,
can't stop,
addicted to the shindig
and I am paying for it
proudly because of memories alone,