to see eternity in an hour
My irrepressible joy seemed to be funneling away,
making me wonder
how much joy I have in an average day.
But you can’t count joy,
because joy isn’t money.
I know I’ve watched my cash funnel away,
not to mention my bag of marijuan-y,
and every single other
solitary good that might sustain me
for a year or for a day. What
can I pray
for or to besides my legal tender,
which nothing will prevent from dwindling away—
especially if I plan to never die?
But in Michigan, Georgia, Pennsylvania,
the ballots spoke with counted joy
the hour that our ship came in this November—
an entire eternity for our trouble!
My irrepressible joy is rising today
to a total that’s a plain absurdity.
