I’d rather make something else
than ever acknowledge it was less than perfect.
“Self-improvement” rings of greedy influencers.
Constant change that of
a flaky millennial who won’t admit she cares about you
who’d prefer staring in the rearview
and changing her hair a third time.
it’s difficult to find this urge to make things better.

Isn’t it odd
that one of the most traditional institutions creates countercultural niche-ers?
Locked up in libraries with products newer than scars
holed up in memories of a better way
re-creating what anyone has said before.
Seems I am one of the prideful.