quietlife

sailin' away,

on the ship they call

mid-sized couch

from the port they call

my fiancé's living room.

when they come,

"they" being the keepers

of the faith, of historical annals

told in stiff drinks,

sweating pint glasses

and told with bloody knuckles.

when they come,

tell them i lived by the sword,

like my life was a legendary thing

in certain circles of college students

and suspicious parents.

IE, born and bred

dead by the age of 23.

tell them i floated off

into the ethereal sun drunk sky

accompanied by harp songs—

to the land

called valhalla.

a place where dad's wear moderate shorts

and sensible leather walking shoes.

where i wake up as the night falls asleep

and my last drink was warm water.

a tall tell: i drifted to the heaven,

like the fictional hebrew

in my parents anniversary bible

and my second coming will exist

only in stories, pen script.

so tell them i got engaged,

it was a week into noviembre

and i cried when it happened.

tell them to eat their fucking hearts out.

Keep Calm, Carry On

To tread in glass is a campaign.

But these timetested callouses

I keep on my soles

save me–

from fresh edges

of brokensharpandshining pieces

that litter the bare earth.

So I keep the march alive.

Highstep, as if I can touch

my nose with my knees/

push forward.

Follow the beat

that pounds

like wild horses

in quiet hillsides.

Fact: those spots of blood,

that drag like the train

of a sunset's wedding dress,

are a testament

to luckyhard&lovely

times—

this: the reason why

I will never give it up.

End of an Era

Today is my last day of college. Yet, I don't feel inspired, excited or happy in the least bit. What sentimentality I would have had toward this accomplishment left me after a conversation I had on earlier in the week. I liken this to kicking an addiction. Something I have been doing steadily for the best five years is going to leave me. But I know I should have some positive feelings toward the matter. They're fleeting, fleeting and gone. At least I won't take the nostalgic route to my college years. "I miss so much about undergrad, so on and so forth." No, I didn't like undergrad either. Looking back on this blog, I can see the effect that undergrad had on me. The progression is despotic. I don't remember the time I spent during each of the postings. Whatever glimpse of the college experience I will remember has taken life in written form. So, instead of taking on this new direction like it is some passed torch, I think of why I am still here. I've been struggling with how unceremonious this seems to me. I turn, I question why I spent the extra quarters at the university. Devaluing my decision won't help anyone. Neither will the question "was it worth it?" I like to think yes it was. Que sera sera.

Tonight is an Irish holiday apparently. I wrote about it once before I think. You look like I need a drink, so I'll have one. Maybe the liquor of Ireland will catch up to me tonight, like it did when I was there. That seems like it was a lifetime ago. It was a lifetime. I'm living a lifetime away.