I fear aging not because I could
take it or leave it on these neck wrinkles
but because
Once a boy named Parker told me
that I would never be happy with what I have.
That I would always want more.

He was right, not about the woman, she is
calm and soft and I still want her but
I am always grasping for another fig branch to stuff under my arm
running like hell till I can get a breath and
stretch myself into tree pose reaching every fruit, write,
drunk on the fermentation and into the night.
All the while keeping the house vacuumed and
having as much sex as you’re supposed to for the
amount of days we’ve been together and our
relative ages.
My figs are alive, but I am tired.

My mother had me at this age and I wonder on
what I would have to impart.
Don’t marry your muse.
There are too many divorce albums by
husbands whose wives I fell in love with and
leaving mine was a great call.
Don’t smoke cigarettes.
You’ll never ever quit because
everyone in this family is constantly twisting their hair
like they need one, even the ones who never.
and don’t
throw things at people,
it is impossible to come out in the right after you’ve thrown something.
Do not adopt large dogs in your early twenties and
try not to go to law school if you can possibly help it.
Don’t worry about the sex thing too much.
Try to eat all your figs.