At Last

Thu, 05/30/2013 - 20:16 -- Kyrie B


United States
46° 58' 37.2648" N, 122° 51' 30.3084" W

I told him I hope to be a poet.

He said he hopes,
to scale a mountain,
to stand at the summit
with ice and empty air burning
his lungs, and scream
out over the land spread
like an ant farm below:
“Fuck you, world!
I’ve beaten you at last!”

I said I feel that way,
on those mornings,
when my shower runs cold
and my alarm blares
fifteen minutes late,
but outside a spear
of sunlight punctures
a raincloud, and a poem
coalesces in my brain.



It's funny, or maybe the right word is ironic? I like that last paragraph. That's what makes me think it's funny. it takes that little turn and you discover the person of the poem.

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