I Want to Change the World

"It was just a man with something to prove--"

My favorite mug is the red one.
My favorite shirt the long-sleeved one.
My favorite person is an idea,
a theory, an interpretation.
Everybody is waiting for a cure
for something nobody really has yet.
Everybody is working toward the moment
when they can make themselves proud.
What is it we’re looking for if we’re looking f
or something? What is it we’re hoping for,
since we’re all hoping for something?

I’m dying to make something of these moments,
wrapped in blankets and ideas,
sipping cold coffee
too anxious to do something
about the taste.
New ideas don’t form in my head,
they’re all repetitions of the ones I’ve had.
Being unsuccessful in my plans to merge them,
being for the benefit of keeping myself alive,
keeping my mind in tune to what is happening
in my world—the places I wander when I’m out
of my mind—being for the sake of saving
my ambitions, I repeat the plans I’ve made,
over again, until they are concrete in theory
and abundant in imagination.
The coffee just gets colder,
the blanket just warmer,
the dogs still bark and planes fly over.
I’ve still made nothing of this moment.

My favorite animal: a turtle.
My favorite dream: a city.
My favorite idea: a person.
Still just a person.

"--slightly bored and severely confused."

Instead I Sleep