The Art of Life

Live like checking into a motel at three in the morning and fumbling with the keys to open the door.

Live like fortuitously shocking someone and feeling the electricity expel from your being to another.

Live like driving through an underpass on the highway and watching the lights hung up on the cement wall break up into short flashes of brightness as the pillars in the median block them.

Live like blowing out a candle’s dancing flame only to see smoke disseminate from the charred wick, in a thin, heather gray cloud.

Live like experiencing musical frisson as a song’s cadence ignites goosebumps on your skin.

Live like highlighting your favorite quotations in a novel only to realize the entire page is filled up in bright yellow marker.

Live like gazing up at the stars as the dark night deluges the Earth in a dark torrent.

Live like being the final person left in an empty sea of seats at the theater as the credits scroll up the vast screen.

Live like sitting in a diner at midnight next to a dish of cold fries as the florescent lights beat down on the vinyl booths.

Live like wandering aimlessly around an art gallery while trying to unravel each painting one brush stroke at a time. 

This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country
Our world



Shows the trivial pleasures of life.

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