ode to sallie mae

Damn
to the 18 year old
Me on the edge of her seat
I don’t blame ya kid, there’s so much
for you in NYC.
Jesus
to the 3 years
Spent out of hallowed halls
The wasting and the trying
And too many dead-end jobs
Fuckgoddamholyfuckshit
To the 19 year old
On the other end of the line
Scoffing at my money owed
And me running out of time
Are you kidding?
To the wide world
That gives and takes so hard
Come on
to the heart now
You can still beat blood.

The Slump.

For any thing that goes well today, ten things won’t.
Of the ten things that won’t go well, there will be millions of things that won’t go at all.
People unmet and friendships unmade and love too, all of it, will run just parallel to you. Maybe even walk slowly behind you, to make sure it doesn’t match your pace.
And when it feels like you will never catch it or meet it or harness it; and you’re lost in the maybes you might never touch, the chances you might never take and the mouths you might never kiss, the heights you may never reach and the comfort you may never feel with yourself, your friends, your station,
remember.

Maybe you will ride into battle one day on the back of a unicorn. Write the song that turns a pop star into a musician. Save the world, quietly or with flash. Maybe you will have the greatest kiss of your life tomorrow. Maybe you will be somebody’s mom. Somebody’s hero. Somebody’s favorite.

Maybe one day you will just be in the right place at the right time.