By Eli Sahm
I can’t wait to smile hummus
organic, ooze carrot-like composure
and be OK with time. I’ll sketch
pictures of my future kids, intuit
places to find quality cider vinegar
and be excited about it. Instead of jumping
into a wood chipper, I’ll use holidays to relax
as a goal. I’ll quit waiting to love myself
and research local politicians. I’ll rescue
a dog and take an active interest in his teeth.
He’ll have a rich interior life
which I’ll engage with after work
and work will be good or bad
in a manageable way. I’ll think about
stoplights when sitting at stoplights.
The economy, I’ll think and not
run over anyone.
I’ll learn the real dos and don’ts of water
and won’t hear anything when I laugh
through the weatherman’s edginess.
I’ll floss behind the back molars
after I grind them out in my dreams
and spit jokes about too much caffeine
down the daily sink after taking the trash out
gratefully in the rain. When I talk to strangers
I’ll talk to strangers instead of myself.
I’ll rub the suggested creams into my scars
once they’re finally done forming and talk
my way out of unemployment. I won’t rifle
through garbage too much anymore
after tomorrow
my mistakes will fit into a pack of smokes
which I’ll confiscate from the neighbor boy
in exchange for a free moral story
about driving face first into a forest.
He’ll remove his reading glasses
and give me a handkerchief
which won’t hold enough food even
for people who eat too often, those people
who lose it like I’m trying to steal their life
when I run hunching in to kiss their dog
from fifty yards away
to turn my day around
by feeling loved for not being
what’s jerking the leash.
Eli Sahm received his MFA in Creative Writing from The University of North Carolina at Wilmington in 2016. He believes in hard work and maintaining an exhaustive political presence online. His poetry is free.
