Saturday, April 22, 2017

All Grown-Up

No one ever told me,
that’s a lie (probably),
but it allows some anger
to disturb the lethargy.

People were always droning
on about growing-up.
Warnings I didn’t hear.
I listened to myself, and ska.

I didn’t envision: crying bored,
staring over plain oatmeal
at ugly house-plants, hour-long
walks looping around

gentrifying neighborhoods
waiting for the sun to finish,
an early bedtime and another bowl
of oatmeal to start it again.  

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