See this self-portrait of mine?
It needs wrinkles.
It needs to cut its hair and go grey.
It needs to get a bit of a stoop
and become more ordinary.
It needs to stop counting its troubles
on fingers and toes.
It’d be better if it counted blessings
or ordinary acts of kindness
— sunrises even.
There have been plenty of sunrises
so many of them unconscious.
It needs to remember it has only one life
and to make more art
more love and more desserts.
It needs to react less
to all the trivial troubles at home
to all the hideousness of the world
or it needs to do something about it.
Goodness knows what. Make more Art?