I'll slip this one in under the wire, though I wrote it earlier today. Between cleaning, shopping, partying, I have had almost no time to take care of business!

Ari has plied me with too many beers and whiskeys. I hope this comes off...

What should I hope for now
I've grown too old to think
the world was made for me?
Should I march forth to war?
Should I crush the kiddies
with dull expectation?
Should I recruit them to
the gray ranks, the living
who breathe out of habit
& eat without pleasure,
& work because they must?

I could. I could lecture,
instruct them in wisdom.
I could fit them with chains
& throw away the key.

Instead, I watch the snow
fall outside my window.
Softness is always sweet.
Snowflakes fall where ever
they may go, and I ask
for nothing more. It is
beautiful; it's enough.