MRS. EVERYTHING

I don’t want to feel like I need to take a nap

after I read something that is supposed to make me feel lighter

I don’t want to break a sweat

trying to find the through-line between the narrators grandma

and the meaning of life

can we ever have something given to us

that is also worthy?

sometimes I think I am smarter than James Joyce

because I am capable of writing a poem

that can be understood on the first read

yet I can’t help but feel deeply offended when my friends say

that my writing is “easy to read”- like how dare they, right?

either I am James Joyce or I am nothing

or maybe James Joyce is nothing and I am everything