On this page I see how you grew
up
and am surprised. Every day now I
go back to this page. Sometimes we
grow up and sometimes our mouths
wrinkle and smudge. I don’t really
get anything from it. Sometimes
we fly into the hands of another
pair of pants. These are good times.
Most all of them. Sometimes we
lash out like children. It’s important
like shampoo. Sometimes we lash out
at our children. Our suppressed hope
is they remember this. And not just in
flashbacks. Sometimes we spread
fairy dust in neverland. We go
back to the kids we cheated
ourselves from. We are
not evolve. We are not
anarchy, kidding ourselves
with happiness. We are.
And
always hopefully love. And
measuring our height in
elementary school. And
being okay, better than
ever, smudgy, some
scales and hunched
back. Sitting in our
living room at the
kid table with fish
eyes – not even having
to wish wise.
