stitch up some shirt sleeves
and make my own pants.
I want to walk through a lush field
in the english countryside
with the right to roam.
I want to lear to play the piano
just well enough
to impress at gatherings.
I want to be a bookstore cat
when I die,
and just curl up in the poetry section.
I want to romanticize the present
because I keep forgetting
it is part of life, too.