Being

 my recent fertility

cries out from a crib

made of cracked crystal

for the end

of my futility. i wish

our society permitted

a lasting peace

 

that didn’t come from

medication or meditation.

i’ll grow cabbages and sleep

on hay; i just need to

rid myself of this plague

of optimism and upward

mobility.

since when is being

            not enough?

***

(Minneapolis, MN -- December, 2022)

I'm just so tired.