Poem by Christian Lopac. This poem was published in the Spring 2016 Wabash Review.
I cried today.
In front of my boss.
It was that moment of time where tears drown your throat and
you decide to forge the river instead of wait and it all comes
out in one big gurgle as you slowly drown.
In a previous life, I was a pilgrim on the Oregon Trail.
In this life I’m a man who sleeps alone.
I dream of being a painter.
I dream of being a poet.
I dream of eating with kings.
I dream of being one of God’s eyelashes.
Meditate not on what you do, but that in which you will never do.
Think not of your achievements, think only of that which will never be achieved.