- Pernille Mo
Heaven throws hatchets at us.
We have to figure out how to catch them
and throw them back with more force.
Hell throws halos at us.
We have to figure out how to hide from them,
or hurl them into the head honcho.
But isn’t it quite good that we’re alive,
having these problems, here in the modern world
rather than in, like, 1670?
Could've been hatched as a spider,
only to be squished
by a slammed screendoor.
Should've been turned into a turnip,
only to be eaten by an allergic asshole
and shit out on Sunday.
Would've been baptized by fire,
only to drown in the bottom
blue part of the flame first.
I am aware of the whole universe
and the whole universe is aware of me,
as I dawdle along in my dumb days and doldrums.
Unbeknownst to the summer,
I am surviving successfully
on the simple things like new shoes and old shows.
The skin at the crease of my elbow
may be looking old and loose,
but my soul will always be 25.
I may die tomorrow
or in 42 more years,
but I will forever romanticize the present.