age
is
arbitrary!
is how i justify whiskey shots on the front porch with adults
singing drunken renditions of Wish You Were Here
it's tender and when our disharmonic voices pierce the quiet street
we all cry a little.

Kimmy puts her arm around me and tells me i am
going
to
do
great
things
maybe it's the alcohol burning up my throat
or something in the light

the
world
is
mine
to
change