Another sun rises and I try

to make a plan. There’s work

to be done, so I start by

drawing the curtains. The pinkish

red blinds me for a second.

“I have time,”

I think.

So I lay back in bed. Children

want to be superheroes and adults

have late nights (or is it early mornings?)

when they try to remember why.

Before an answer is found, life’s

duties get in the way.

“I have to get groceries,”

I think.

So I grab a new note and survey

my kingdom. No milk, no eggs.

I should have salad more than–

Okay, I should get a salad.

Another few minutes passed by

my head in the open fridge,

and finally the note approximates

what an adult should eat.

“It’s probably busy right now,”

On a Thursday at 10.

I pick up a book, I think

of the first time I read it,

how inspired I felt to–

my other hand commands

my attention, and now its 11.

“I have to get groceries,”

A thumb still marks my page.

So I pull it away, and walk out

the door. A dull grey sky is easier

on the eyes, and I remember wanting

to fly as a kid. Would make this walk

a bit more bearable.

In the aisles, I’m alone, but my music

is a bit too loud, and I look around

expecting to find someone I’ve bothered.

“Eggs, check. Milk, check.”

I say in my mind.

“Bread, cereal, frozen lasagna,

flour, sugar,”

I pass by the salads.

Kids have it easy. Chicken nuggets when

you can’t stomach asparagus. Mothers

to kiss you better– salad as an ultimatum!

There’s something I’m forgetting…

“Yogurt,”

I skip the song that’s just too long.