The ancient alchemists
would stand in awe
of forests transformed
into gold.
They speak of gifts
from former lovers:
vases
or black eyes,
rings
or babies.
They carry
former intimacies:
horrors and tragedies
traumas and ecstasies.
I have no
former lover,
I carry only
years with you;
no horrors mar our history,
just monogamous longevity–
our effort at ontogeny.
.
.
What if
just for today
you dared to do
that thing you fear?
What if
just for today
whenever you
wanted to say no,
you opened yourself
to yes?
What if
today was the day
when everything
changed?
“I know this guy
who chopped off all his fingers in a blender.”
What? Was he intoxicated? drunk? high?
“Nope.”
You’re kidding. Why would he do that?
“Well, you know, he wanted to prove he could touch
the middle of the chopping part without getting hurt.”
But he couldn’t, apparently.
Shrug. “I guess not.”
Huh.
“Yeah. People from Calgary are stupid.”
.
.
.
Sometimes, I am very afraid for the youth of today.