nothing
is for certain
everything
is random
but some things have a logic to them
that can be predicted —
success and family wealth
diet and exercise and general future health
queerness and hairstyle
etc.
etc.
etc.
predicted
but not for certain
because nothing
nothing
nothing
is for certain
[didn’t you read the beginning of this poem?]
our yard is so green
and the spring and summer are battling each other
for who gains control
every day
and i’m spending a majority of my time
in a tiny
dark
theater
and yet, i rarely feel more like myself
than when trapped
in tiny
dark
theaters
all day long
i forgot
i forgot
i forgot how much time
theatre takes
not that i’m mad about it
[it does occupy my mind
in a way little else does]
but
i forgot that it takes me away
from my favorite kip
my favorite spouse
and i don’t enjoy them
feeling
abandoned
at least we can laugh about it
[and someday i’ll get to be home
for longer than
the time it takes
to sleep and wake up and have breakfast and leave]
doing twenty million things at once
i honestly don’t know if it’s good for me
or terrible
or i’m terrible at it
or even kinda ok to maybe good
but i can tell it’s kinda my default
[like chaos]
and maybe i should just find ways
to encourage what works
and have failsafes
for what
doesn’t
why
why
why must i keep waking up
in the 5:00 hour
when i don’t actually need to be getting out of bed
until 7am?
is it the sunlight? is it the stress? is it my body craving more time in the day?
is it the heat? is it the animals? is it my to-do list screaming me awake?
is it dehydration? overhydration? is it the caffeine coursing through my veins?
how much how much how much is my body in charge
vs. the external situation(s)
vs. me
thinking about
sacred
thinking about
holy
thinking about what these words mean to me
and even more
what songs/books/people/practices
are such
to
me
all-gender bathroom
happy pride wishes
with strangers
[this is a beautiful month
inside a beautiful city]
waiting
[im]patiently for the bagels to arrive
i’m hungry
but more than that
i’m worried i cannot start my day
until i’ve had my sacred little
bagel
cream cheese
coffee
and stardew valley
time of day
watching our monstera grow
upwards
outwards
and
downwards
the roots spread as far
if not farther
than the stems and leaves and fenestrations themselves
searching for more soil
to vine across the ground
i wish i could give you twelve pots in a row,
little monstera,
to feed your searching
climbing
down
but for now, i suppose i’ll
let the root dangle
and see if you find anything
interesting
in this indoor living space
you’re stuck inside
what happens when the apocalypse happens
in fits and starts
and tiny bit by tiny bit?
if the future generations survive, will they look back on us
with wonder at how we made it this far?
if the future generations thrive, will they look back on us
and laugh at how foolish we were to assume
that we weren’t at the start of the middle
of the end times that they
escaped?
only hindsight is 20/20
we can only concern ourselves with the here and now
and try to institute the lessons from our own pasts
our paths to here we can re-tread, our paths forward
have not yet been paved
but i can’t stop myself from thinking myself far into the future
with wonderment
with fear
with imagination
with questions
because i’m concerned with the future of our planet
and how we can leave
here
better than we found it
[can we
leave it better than we found it???]
