Adventure is Out There

by Cami Rumble (September 2024)

Adventure Is Out There
–
I want to look out my window and see
the winking lights of a city insomniac
or sand pyramids razored and clean,
peaks stretching to the edge of my eye.
Even a stream of passers-by would be fine,
and I could lay like a cat and watch them
with nothing on my mind, appreciating the assortment.
–
I want to live in one of those underwater pods
and wake up to little silver fish carried by in the current,
perhaps spy an octopus lurking. I’d probably
go crazy down there day after day, but at least
I’d get to read the books I walk past and promise my time to.
–
Maybe the life for me is a hotelier,
smashing other peoples’ problems out of the park
like a baseball slugger.
Just so long as I can go to bed at night with my slippers and
book and cup of herbal tea. I’d like some adventure,
please, though only when I’m ready and not too dangerous,
and if it involves snakes or torture count me out.
–
It is faintly possible that out there in Calcutta or Winnipeg
another human presses their face to the cool glass of their window,
yearning to close their eyes and open them
to world extraordinaire. Perhaps their longing
would look a lot like the green fields next to my house
and the pink sunsets I see sometimes
above the crooked outline of ever-present mountains.
–
–
–
–
Welcome to Failure
–
This place is heralded by a green highway sign
followed by the smell of burnt rubber and sour intentions,
leading up to the visitor’s bureau
giving out brochures on how to live with yourself
after the fact.
–
There are lots of other parents there,
smoking as they talk in a circle.
They welcome me with the crook of an eyebrow
and a little smile that says,
we’re glad you ended up here.
–
Once you arrive it’s almost impossible
to leave, because the guilt
flattens your tires and siphons your gas,
but I try, while they watch without comment.
I could cut the solidarity with a knife.

=

Table of Contents