by Christos Polydorou

All I ever wanted
was a life of meaning
my life to mean something
in the past I did not feel
meaningful, and my life was
maybe I just could not see it
I understood that my
senses was the only place to start
so I started to show them a good time
we listen to music
we look at birds
we speak witty sentences
we smell truffle oil, pomegranate, citrus
we taste this side, and elsewhere
life is so short
life is so long
it depends on who is living it
this is my life
so to deepen each experience,
to expand it like a child expands reality with a spinning top,
to philosophize it,
distill it,
then throw it all away
seems to be right now the right choice
no more cruel voices
no more cursing
no more distraction from the calamity of the self
what started with each of us, was creation
and so the only thing that seems sensible to be doing
is creating
I can tell by the ease and harmony of the narrator
always narrating
when I am creating.