WHAT COUNTS?

I may rent a car and not use it

but still feel like Speed Racer.

I may live like a debtor 

but feel more philanthropic than Bill Gates.

Or speak from both sides of my mouth 

but talk only of my own taste buds.

Embody a myriad of contradictions

but own only one mirror.

Conceal a serious overbite but know my teeth 

are bigger and brighter than my dentist’s.

Flaunt a chisel but work it I like tweezers

on the one eyebrow my closest friends share

that underscores their worry.

Puppet about 206 bones 

but have only one rag to wring.

Swoon over my very own Pocahontas 

but have no mussel shell to shave with.

Stack a Kilimanjaro of croutons but can’t find 

the god damn Caesar in the salad.

Witness three comedians flounce their shtick

but possess only the one cackle to unfurl my pleasure from.

Hoist my Yosemite calendar but fail

to lay down all my petty burdens and boredoms.

Strut all my compulsions about town

but treat them, in private, like sad little orphans.  

Tongue my clarinet but haven’t kissed the King.

Pretend to be an abacist but forget to count my blessings.