You see what glitters
can’t keep your hands off it
feels so soft
tastes so good
By the time you’re in high school
it’s already too late
to get enough of it
but you try anyway
like a responsible adult
despite marital ennui
despite collapsing financial machines
despite leveled forests
despite legal hypocrisy
so reality conflicts
with your childhood dreams
and you go numb
despite the glitter
you’ve piled up
in your desperate garage
then as a senior citizen
you grow scared of ending
you pretend all the craving and striving
meant something
even though you never believed in God
never prayed or meditated
never read sacred literature
and insisted
who needs the Bhagavad Gita
when you have a portfolio
who needs the Maharishi
when you have CNN
eventually age wins
you ache
you get wider
you are too tired
you stop counting
what’s in the garage
doesn’t matter now
all you need is room
for one more thing
about the size of a camp stove
it all stops
when you carry the generator upstairs
close the windows
put towels under the door
and pull the starter cable
the literature says
“Quiet….. runs all night.”
which comforts you
like the glittery things of your youth