I had to get my license in Chicago,
so I headed down to the DMV,
but they aren't taking appointments because of COVID,
so I have to line up,
but even at 7:50 the line is fifty people deep.
I pop on a podcast,
not mine because I hate my voice,
and get in line,
while the sun is shining,
and the flies are annoying,
but I am determined.
Weed is legal in Illinois,
but I don't care,
I just want to be a resident,
like my mom was before Florida destroyed her;
maybe Chicago can save me
from myself and my past.
Starting over starts on Instagram
and Hinge, which is a first for me,
but again I am determined,
and I figured it can't hurt;
I'll Bumble in New York
just to see if I can get some strange.
They are mailing me my license,
because of some COVID protocol,
which means I will have three IDs:
New York, Florida, Illinois,
but maybe I will cut up the other two
in a symbolic gesture,
or I'll glue them to wood and mail them to my sisters.