I arrived a grown child, thinking
this the place where everyone was

a star or– at least– a surfer.
I am neither. Every year

I look back and say my god! I’ve stayed
the same. For example: four billion years ago

I was a molecule in primordial soup,
spinning and swirling. Four billion years later,

I am a clerk at a convenience store, stocking lube and smiling.
Now? I am on the couch watching BoJack Horseman,

eating canned tuna and wondering if I am him.
Or– wait. I am in my car, stuck in traffic, honking

at a red light. Hell, I am driving a lemon,
barefoot in smog. This may be

a dream, but I feel cheated these days,
even if the sun shines– and it does– too brightly.

(originally published in Sunhous Review, Fall 2024)