The year is 2208 and

after almost two centuries of ignoring my mother

I have finally had sufficient time and space 

to process my childhood trauma

I now only jump slightly when someone raises their voice instead of

shutting down for at least an hour

 

I can feel the universe flow through me

like perfectly prepared spaghetti

saucy and moist,

I am finally one with this world 

in a way that just makes so much sense

 

I have created and mastered over 237 new forms of poetry

my personal favorite is Ankhseti

first you prick your finger

then you let 5 drops of blood fall on the page 

blow dry it while venting to yourself

(anything you wouldn’t admit to a therapist works)

then write 10 lines on the first animal you think of

(the subtext is always about your religious upbringing)