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2011-03-14T19:40:29-04:00March 14th, 2011|Musings on life|

The 26-year-old male

He doesn’t walk
he glides
insulated from fragility
because he doesn’t believe in it.
Try to topple him
he will laugh
in your face.
He is all muscle
and momentum.
His certainty emits
its own heat.
His future is just like today:
perfect.
A truck runs a red light,
the thud is quieter
than you’d expect.
As he sails through the air
he feels sad
for the faces
who look up to him
for they will never
learn to fly.

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