I will write a grown up poem
about the joys of adulthood
of being happy because
you have a new garbage can, all your own
and can stop mooching off the people who lived next door
but left theirs.
A new garbage can will really make your day.
So will things like curtains, and hanging pictures on the walls.
A poem about the tiny accomplishments
of standing in line and government forms
in phone calls and directories and feeling useful
yet losing important things.
kids aren't the only ones who lose things, you know
I happen to be very good at it, myself.
Yes, you feel satisfied when you can cross things off your list
like installing things and remembering to buy batteries
and then cross when there are ants in the kitchen
an insistent line that makes you cringe and feel itchy all over.
When the towels are folded and the dishes clean
thank you notes penned and stamped and addressed
there's no prizes or stickers or ice cream sundaes to reward you
unless you give them to yourself.