If life can’t be perfect . . .


it can be quiet, at least.

I’m home listening to my fan and the rain.
Answering phone calls against my better judgment,
but remaining peaceful just the same.

I think I am going to organize my collection of quotes and poems online.
Arranging and ordering anything always feels satisfying,
like you’ve accomplished something.

That might even inspire me to write.
I would draw or paint, but I would rather play infirm
for awhile and stay confined to my bed.

Maybe later tonight I will find an excuse to leave,
or at least watch movies or bootlegs.
I should think of some exciting snack to help coax myself
back into the world later!


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