Member-only story
I want you to have my life — 2
Accepting that change is good — but that we can’t change everything. A prose poem.
Who am I? Your average Joe…
My family is nuclear — my rhythms are regular. I am Jack’s grumbling ulcer and Pulp’s Common People (with some persistent emotional abuse that keeps me motivated…) I can hum Pharrell’s “Happy” and mean it — I can be a party animal and feel it. I am the stats — have lived according to the median — so far so beautifully Schumacher.
Who am I? Nobody, and yet –
I live existentially, right here, right now…I would sell you the picture of the blue sky, azure sea, artist life on the shore of the Med — but you wouldn’t buy it — cautious as you are… I wish you would though. I want you to have my alive life — free in the real sense of the world — your blooming bone locker thriving in full swing…
The plan? Never even had a “Pla”.
Yes, now I live the dream — not smugly — gratefully, yes… Suffer fools gladly? No way. Say it like it is? — hell, yeah!
Who are you? Your average Mrs –someone who has a choice.
Born in the right place at the right time, you are not the stuff that news is made of — Afghanistan, Iran, Somalia, Yemen — that’s not you! (Hail those women!) So — settle your soaked peaches on the beaches of the…
