I used to whine about mold . . .

(Artist: Dora Agbas)

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A Late Winter False Spring Blizzard Day Kind of Poem

I used to whine
about mold on my bread,
and now I just 
peal that shit off
and eat the rest.

I used to rage
about litterbugs,
but I’ve learned the joy
of picking up 
just because.

I used to think
so highly of myself,
and I still do,
but not in the way 
I used to.

I sometimes become
unhinged on the phone
with Indian wage slaves
because phone numbers
for those I truly loathe
are unlisted.

But I’ve grown kinder,
I tell myself, in general,
Lord I pray, I hope
I’ve grown in tenderness
toward a few things.

What I’m listening to: Lots of Gregory Alan Isakov

What I’m reading: Henri Nouwen’s The Inner Voice of Love, Maggie Smith’s Goldenrod