prototype

Here's a poem for everybody:

I feel lucky to feel the way I do
And priveliged is not too strong a word
In fact, its strength dwarfs my weakness
And inadequacy to describe this thing
Called "the life of me"
In detail rich enough for others to truly savor
But the best we can do is all anyone can ask

My realizations are strong!
And make me feel that way, too
And they are unique, but not special
and I'm ok with that, and with overuse
Of the word and
Far be it from me
To discourage self-analysis or obsession

Or the sharing of my portion of
Life's Rich Pageant
And will this reference
Illustrate as I'd like it to
The universality of self-expression

We are all alone together
A galaxy of stars
Shining towards and over and for each other
And you can buy a star now,
Or at least the name to one
But you can never really own it
Just as I can never own or understand
Anybody else, really

I could go either way with this
But I'll happily remember
The palm-reader from that movie
That Laura hates but I didn't mind
Who said it, along with with Hoagy Carmichael
and Ziggy and the Spiders (kinda)
We're all stardust
And should treat each other accordingly

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Happily, I've lately been able to express myself more freely and openly (in print)than I've ever been able to before. So I feel like the above gives a pretty clear picture of my state of mind these days. If you don't like it, that's too bad, but I freely acknowledge my limited appeal.