I will become the sister I have always wanted

I will become inappropriate for city life
fly a trapeze in the jungle
maybe do some mechanical work on rocket ships for extra cash
I will become a hobbyist for underwater paraphernalia
I will become the kind of old person who always buys the same kind of shoes
when my soles have worn thin
or at least live and die with someone who does
I will become a spinster who reads a French newspaper on Sundays
understanding not a word, but femme sole
I will crochet all of the hairs and dental floss I find into a new outfit for the Statue of Liberty
I will become the sister I have always wanted

Published by Lia Yaranon Hall

My name is Lalla. I was a 14th century poet in Kashmir and worshipped Lord Siva. I died and fell from an evergreen tree in the Pacific Northwest (47° 36? 36? N, 122° 19? 48? W). My Lolo found me in an ivy patch. I spent most of my formative years on the coast of the South China Sea spearing fish until I became a "vegetarian" (but we didn't call ourselves that in those days). Shortly after vowing ahimsa, I moved to New York, unironically, under the guise of "poet" so that I could perform aerial stunts and acrobatics for an underground circus called the.

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