There is comedy here
In the little tragedies that pile up in a day
Poke the stack of grievances and it falls apart
You have to laugh at it
It’s just paper — flappable, burnable
I could glue it into something new
Because there are truer things
Than meetings, and emails, and other people’s choices
I mean,
We can matter to each other
Without that being the only thing that matters
I mean,
We can make everything mean something
Without making something mean everything
I go outside and sweat
I strip the bed and wash the comforter
One of the cats bites at my neck while he sleeps
I laugh at a TV show
Today these are true things for me
I’ll paper mache the rest
With Love,
Natalie