JANUARY 1 2029

10:30 PM

i must embody that which i love:

cheese

as cheese, a whole new year to swelter and shine.

as i plonk in a random ditch, the glaring crises

of waiting and overthinking, dense but alike

in twenty nineteen, the wind would decide

we'd call it the gall of the day.

in twenty fourteen, i'd lie about crying about

lying. i was thought wise, and taught not to ask

in two thousand three, for clarification,

an inconsolable tension, a way to rely

in ninety four, on my mind or

maybe coins, and heads for yes

the word "estallar"

twenty twenty nine

and not knowing whether to try

harder or less