a poem a day for a year #38

by Amy Turn Sharp


you can't keep beating things with sticks

over and over

hoping for change

hope does not float

 

just hold an inauguration

a lavish moment all to yourself

perhaps in a quiet kitchen

with cupcakes

red velvet or something

and music softly in the background

stitching your side

 

or in a late model minivan

rolling towards suburbia

with a single cigarette you

bummed from the neighbor

sparking flashbulb memories

 

take a moment to make the oath

address the wind

the world

the neighborhood

as you drive by

screaming

pushing into the night

 

letting everyone and no one know that you are now

the captain of your own future

you are the president of your own fears

 

we are all going to die

fall down and die

lay me down to sleep

but let's live like tiny children

who don't yet know that horror

let's live like lords of the brand new day