New Year’s Eve
“Stop being so boring,”
said the window.
“Stop staring at me,”
said the wall.
The whole house was on fire.
It was small and sustainable.
I was eating a pretzel,
daydreaming about winning
a giant pretzel.
As the decade slowly ended,
I conducted an inventory
of what my work had won me:
a bag of pretzels, a fire,
a wall and a window.
In some ways, I was wealthy.
Compared to a snake,
I had everything.
Compared to a line,
I had a long way to go.
—Christopher DeWeese
—found in Indiana Review (Summer 2010; Vol. 32, No. 1)