Poor? The best things in life are free. Rich? Blessed and highly favored.
I’m both so Luna is always tide-pulling on the corners of my mouth.
Or maybe it’s just self-made bliss that makes me idolize ideal ideologies –
the ones that are optimistically subjective. A knock at my mind is a poke
at our injudicious, slightly whimsical generation. Foreheads stamped: THAT’S
FINE TOO. With the ink left from the over romanticized notion of a Melting Pot.
Reveries streaking through star lit meadows or torrents crashing on bloody banks.
Or maybe it’s just water surrounded by some form of dirt and whatever stuff
grows on top of the dirt. Like dandelions. Dandelions grow in dirt. Those brilliant,
conniving weeds that feign beauty. But beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.
Right? Anywho, I’m off to inkblot therapy, Luna-pulled, in my “Elephants Never Forget”
PETA t-shirt clutching my Donney and Bourke and wondering what pictures I’ll see.
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