its true. nor am i rich or smart or tall or priveledged.
im not really motivated or ambitious or wise or jolly or cultured or tidy or fit or trim.
i lack hair where i should have it and i have it where i shouldnt.
im turning gray in the worst places like in my nose
and on my nuts.
i dont pray as much as i should.
i dont read books as much as i should.
i dont visit my friends i dont seek out religion.
i dont write enough. i dont art enough.
i should give my mother more gifts but i refuse.
when people call me on the telephone to ask my opinoin i dont lie as much as i could.
and i accept far too little a wage from my employer.
i get the biggest thrills from the littlest moments
i dont have a car, or good clothes,
or the desire to ask for the things that i want.
which makes the gentle perfumed tap
at my back door on cold evenings
all the more inconceivable.
and youd be stunned at how quick