better

Someday I want to watch
the President giving
the State of the Union address
and say to myself,
"She always did pay attention
in my British literature class."

I want to develop such rock hard abs
that my future wife giggles
like a bubbly groupie
when she tickles me on the couch.

I want to flood the offices
of each literary magazine
with a hundred and fifty-three
hard-hitting poems,
every one of them different,
not because they'll publish them
but because they'll remember
how hunger must drive the heart of a writer.

I want to always be able
to look a stranger in the eyes
and share the promises of God
without coughing up butterflies.

I want my future children
to choose the Apostle Paul
over Dr. Seuss when they want me
to read to them before bedtime.

I want to sleep without my snores
waking me and scaring any 2 A.M.
tenants drinking in the parking lot
outside my apartment window.

I want to invest more time,
energy and common sense
into praying for my worst enemies.

I want to think about my response
every time someone calls me
out of my name or out of my shame.

I want to call my parents more often
and tell them how much
their sacrifices mean to me
while I still have the chance.

I want the willpower to pass up
that peanut butter cookie staring at me
when I walk through Starbucks.

I want to assure the woman I wed
that she will be my only queen
and that my day will feel empty
if I can't serve her in some way.

I want to show more respect
to disrespectful students
so that if they learn
nothing else in my class
then they'll never forget
the meaning of that term.

I want to shake my head in disgust
while reading my past poems
so that I'll stay motivated
to reach deeper and farther the next time.

I want to open at least one door
for fifteen other eclectic voices,
each one adopting the same conviction.

I want my similes and metaphors
to keep young people awake at night,
exorcising their fear of the future.

I want to learn how to cook so well
that the flavors will ease any headaches
my lady and I may have that day.

I want to pioneer spoken word mixtapes
and keep caravans of Cadillacs
vibrating in parking lots
at midnight for ten bucks a pop
to pay utilities and bring home roses.

I want today's kids to know the difference
between having dreams and living dreams.

I want to always be able to deal with my past
instead of letting my past deal with me
so that I can concentrate on that path
shining more and more
unto the perfect day.

So what am I waiting for?


Copyright 2006. Streetlight Publications.