A Poem For 2024

we were not meant to live forever

yet here we stand, shoulders drooping

necks stretched forward in question marks

as we type and swipe

with hearts in our hollowed-out eyes

youth is not so glamorous

all blind adoration and tin cups of sour rum

we place signs in our yards and cannot afford the mortgage

the neighbors play jazz and the beagle howls at firetrucks

turns out wild dogs can be tamed

our domesticity frightens us

rounded edges and red dye 40

and plastic seeping into our bloodstreams

you tell me your blood type

and I’ll tell you mine

and we’ll divide ourselves in this new way

we hadn’t thought of before

never will enough be enough

the pigeons on the boardwalk are not plagued like us

they do not get into brawls at voting booths

or look sideways at a pretty girl sitting alone in a diner

coffee is good company, I know this now