State of The Union

Ha, thought

This was

Going to be

A political poem?

Those things age

Like salmon

Smell as bad, too.

No

And having referred to it

There’s a degree of self performance

Impostor syndrome

(Most days, I think I’m pretty good. Competent,

Like a hat to hide a bald spot

When the smart move is to shave your head)

So here it is:

It’s going to be ok.

There is always a way

There is always hope

I breathe in different colours

But it still bears the flavour

Of your kindnesses

Forgive the relative brevity

I have worlds to save

People chuckle

But, come closer

I have a message

Just for you:

If you read it,

Walk to the window,

Press your palm to the glass

And tap your ring finger twice

Just breathe

I’ve got you.