Those Anxious Questions About the Future
I hope you remember nothing.
In ten years, maybe you will stop thinking of yourself so much.
If not, blame a political party for holding you back.
I fear you will not have time to see what we see in you.
Our vision for you has changed
from savior to whiff.
You are going to get rich
in pursuit of one morning.
The first thing that comes to mind?
Bullshit. Do the work.
Everything frightens you.
You will not love the way your skin falls into it own lines.
The hardest thing? Unsticking your smug.
It will take great strength to sacrifice all of the pain
that never happened to you.
“Bullshit. Do the work.” — something my dad would have said. I especially love “Everything frightens you. /
You will not love the way your skin falls into it own lines.” — has the feeling of a curse being set.
Poetry: after a late night
we’re chasing it around early
the next morning, “Bullshit.
Do the work” u do it
Oh my goodness, Amy! Each time I read this through I see something else that makes me laugh or cry or want to steal the line. “You will not love the way your skin falls into it own lines./The hardest thing? Unsticking your smug.” – Love!
The demanding instructional yet humorous tone has a sort of dystopian feel. Very fresh!