There is nothing that belongs to me—
even the stuff, I think, that is rightfully mine.
I have an urge to take from other people
and to dare them to defy me, or if not other people—the universe.
I want something that belongs to me
One could call this an entitled spirit
but the alternative is horrific
If you can’t take the glory, there is no glory at all
I know this painter through a family friend
He painted 20 years ago, for 20 minutes—and now he shows his art at the community center
Patrons pay 5 dollars for postcards and 10 for copies
“I decided to buy a couple of things to support him,” my friend said.
On the streets, at least the artists are playing the game of survival—it has integrity
Later, the same friend complimented me on my piano playing
I can barely string three notes together
Friends are always giving-out sympathy like lollipops—red, yellow, and green
while they set their sights on killing something real
Their hearts are in the right place, but a little less love…
“Kari said I was a nice guy,” I tell my friend’s mom.
“You’re a nice guy, some of the time,” she said.
Finally, the truth.
I tell my friend I’ve written something really good, and he reads it with lack-luster enthusiasm
You know when you’re good, and you know when you’re not
I’m looking for hope
but mostly, I get false hopes
We want something that helps us to believe
and not cheap, positive quotes
Magic is the ability to implant beliefs
to churn up sensations we don’t normally feel
when it finds you.