19 Safaris, by Jake Goldstein

today i am sure that
everyone looks like
salvador dali
but when the professor
asks “if anyone feels like
salvador dali”
no one raises their hand.
considering that, I realize:

i have stood on enough corners and
sniffed enough happiness
(my sinuses are always clogged)
and had enough nights of
careless jaywalking to
think long and hard enough
to decide there’s not much
to be done about it.
even then,

i have meditated, three times, i think,
thrown my phone out the window
and grown wings as I jumped out to catch
it (now they’re just two large scars;
they look like rorschach tests).
that brought me understanding.
and so I have now:

bought every item on amazon
shoplifted your birthday present
shared drugs (with my hands
tied behind my back;
bobbing for apples)
smiled at myself in the mirror
for an hour making small
adjustments to my lips
remembering that i
once named my
baby teeth
and then they all fell out.
what made me realize that

for 19 safaris i have had
a platonic relationship
with the moon;
now I wonder if i
should make it
my goal to change that,
falling asleep to the
sounds of the hardwood
couple yelling sonnet 18
in perfect iambic pentameter.