Some Days I Feel Like the Sun

 

wants to air fry me,

like the rain

to visit me again

with pestilence and want,

want, want

to be tired of wanting

the leak fixed, the refrigerator

full of leftovers,

to be like

I don’t give shit,

I mean a shit,

it will be fine without my wanting

and take the trouble

from your forehead

without having to feel

where to think should be

or seen from the top

of an Indian rope trick

the maze you want mapped

like the sun.