"sure, one day"

"sure, one day"

written thoughtfully by jake kilroy.

the wonder you had as a kid,

the arrogance you had as a teenager,

the guts you had as a college student,

the laugh you had as a young adult,

the humility you have as everything beyond.

until old age breaks my bones

and weakens my muscles,

i'll have the life of chimneys,

of little league, of messy garages,

of forgetting, of remembering,

of rambling, of staying put.

but at least i had pints with friends and strangers,

stumbling in a dazzling parade through vancouver.

at least i drank cheap wine while building a tent

trying to beat sundown in the backwoods of missouri.

at least i fell asleep during a day-long reading of ulysses,

from slumming in a pub and walking across new york city.

at least i had a generous sip of something i'd never tasted,

trying to make my way out of the thieves capital of tangier.

at least i spent new years after new years cackling true,

asking the year for more of the same on a beach in la mision.

sure, one day,

these fingers won't be recognized as my own,

and i'll ask for medicine,

and i'll hate the medicine,

and i'll watch myself

unmovable

comfortable

and pleasant.

but.

at least i had something to bury in the backyard.

at least i had something to hide in the attic.

at least i had something to tuck away in a closet.

roads, rails and seas

couldn't hold me,

but a neighborhood could surely kill me,

and it'd be a lovely death indeed.

sure, one day, i'll be buried, hidden and tucked away,

but all i ask is that the grim reaper tells me a good joke

and explains how he was always so very jealous of me.