Thursday, June 13, 2013


By years and form,
I am essentially grown.
I have reached
the adult stage of human

Not Pupa or larval,
baby, child, teen, but
full blown adultitis.
I’m not sure I like
it much.

I always wanted to be
older, so I could do the
things I wanted without
anyone telling me what
I could or couldn’t do.

And yet, here I sit, in
another’s manmade cubicle,
typing information I don’t
care about into a system
built by another man,
that worked at a company
owned by another and all
of us, likely adults, still
doing what we’re told to do.

I’m not sure where the freedom
of adulthood went, or if it
existed at all. Was it an
illusion? Why, don’t I feel all
that grown up but, feel old?

I’m worn out by the constant
worries of the drowning man,
lost at sea. Fending off sharks of
everydayness and giant killer
squids of mediocrity and all I
know is how to swim.

I’m glad I had swimming lessons
as a child, if only I had some
adult lessons, or “How to be
in your late thirties” lessons.

The water is cold. It’s deep.
I’m jostled by the waves. 

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