A Year’s End Resolution

11/1/23
4:40 PM

How many times can I Autumn back to recount my thoughts 
as Fall finally approaches this slow-motion year? It's  
62 degrees and I'm bundled beneath
48 hours of frozen toes as my 
2009 iMac shuffles 
2,693 songs aloud
one at a time.

Zero hours of sleep have been tucked under my belt since Monday
and I somehow haven't finished a single pod in my Vuse Alto vape.
These seconds have frittered away while fidgeting fingers finessed 
files, letters, and stanzas neatly into formatted lines of memory,
ready to publicly archive at the press of a button named “Update.”

As is the season's tradition, 
December will once again
uproot the structure of my life.
Family relocating to icier climates
with a vacant seat on the trip north,
(blood unloading my grace into 
the overburdened arms of heart),
I will soon find myself surrounded
by the strange seas of isolated space.

It will have been 15 years since our
distance straddled this many states to
point out where we warmly call home.
My impending deeds must employ 
the execution of counseled goals:
Somewhere in the turbulent storm 
of camouflaged moments etched 
directly into the calendar's turn,
I must build  a house for my life.

If an ounce of effort I pay my audio/visual 
whims would go towards self-investment, 
I would be well relaxed in a mansion by now. 
With the bottle set aside for the time being,
I might have a prime opportunity in my lap.

Maybe I should start returning a few more phone calls.
Copying and pasting forms on a company's bleak website
would be a staggeringly easier feat than writing this poem,
a simple update to the resume' and a firm press of Return.
Emails would flood my inbox with top dollar jobs and 
my sweet poor love would never want for another cent.

I guess I found my year's end resolution.