Wednesday, December 1, 2021


The whole thing starts off 
innocent enough:

your waking up 
to yourself 
that first morning. 

Then, the endless 
imitations will start. 
First, it's the sharks 

who are chasing after.
But soon, it's: whatever—

you're the one 
chasing them.

Before long, 
you find you're 
no longer enamored

with the passing,
and the waiting, 

and all the anxious 
blanks. Jesus calls 
you boring, 

and Satan commands 
you to iterate faster

while lashing your back, 
as if this were 
life and death—

which, of course,
so far, it isn't—
until that one morning 

when the script flips,
and it is.