Un-Ode To Modern Living Part 1

I want to live in a commune
Away from abstract bills.
There’s someone else’s name on them.
My name, but it’s really someone else’s.
I would never own a cell phone
digital cable, University credit card
from that school I never got around
to attending.

I want to wear animal-friendly clothes,
even if they were made in Taiwan.
I have to buy what’s cheapest.
I have to keep buying to look presentable
at work, in social situations, to catch a mate.
I would never own a leather belt, leather-bound book,
$120 doc martin shoes with non-skid soles
clay colored and faded with care.

I want walls that all match.
No poster and picture clutter.
All the same color.
No attachment to them.
No fondness for their individuality.
I would never project such value
on pictures of Einstein
and quotes from Maya Angelou’s books.
I would never have to put them up over and over again.
I would never feel so alone
without their presence staring back at me.
No, that’s someone else.

I want one book on one loan shelf
until it is read.
I would never have half-read books
about the socialization of Mexico,
dog eared over and over again
from having to start at the beginning.

I want to not own anything
that could be put in small wooden boxes,
even if I did buy them from the thrift store
down the street.
I don't want to smother the smell of energy
left behind by the previous owner
with the suffocating scent of my sage and cigarettes.

I want to not own anything
that collects dust and cobwebs,
and attracts tiny dark bulbous beings
with hairline fracture legs
that eventually shatter my nerves into pieces
so that I have to end their presence for absolutely
no reason.

That’s someone else, not me.