I’ve spent most of my life
feeling like I wasn’t meant for this world
that everyone had staked a claim already
and I was too late, I didn’t register for the race.
I used to think that I was built for old horror,
that real devastation: war, hunger, murder, rape.
But now I’m not so sure. Maybe I’d be that
pale aristocrat vanished in the halls
of my own mausoleum. Either way
I try and enjoy the ease of America
I like feeling anonymous, without the
dictation of tradition. But then again
without a community, that anonymity
can feel like drowning. So many births
today. We are learning how to navigate
the new waters of the new neighborhood,
one with relationships made of interests.
The next generation will feel centered,
but for now, I feel unhooked, and my
hand reaches for the canyon sides
as I drift downwards.
No comments:
Post a Comment