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.
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