anyone can be angry.
anyone can be a dirt rat.
Anyone can be the right person.
But it's a crown of gold.
To be wrong and ultimately.
Forgiven, for real, from yourself.
waxing poetic and bruising my shins,
I walk along in shorts bought at Target,
dress shoes, stained shirt and cardigan,
trying to get a bagel for Passover.
Last night's Seder was long
in fleeting gossamers.
now give me something good,
before I decide what the fuck
I want to be.