“the running joke of autumn”
i wish it could
be fall,
because everything
is better during fall,
don’t you think?
i tend to delude myself
by believing that
everything will be solved
when the air becomes crisp
like an apple, and
pumpkins begin to appear
on doorsteps down the street,
but then i remember
[and it hits me,
like a hay-bale to the head]
that apples make me sick
and the cooler weather
hardly ever bothers
to show up, anyway.
and if it does, it lasts
one week, maybe two
[if the odds be ever in
our favor, but i can’t recall
the last time they were in mine],
and before i even
carve my pumpkin,
the sky turns gray,
ushering in winter’s
soul saturating rain.
though i know this disappointment
will always haunt me,
much like the halloween maze
i once went into
at that neighborhood party,
i pretend.
and i pretend well,
for i may not be
good at many things,
but i am terrifyingly good
at pretending.
at taking out
my pumpkin spiced candles
and turning down the air
until the bill
is far too high.
i play the music,
faking the perfect
autumnal mood board type life
i have dreamed of since
i could use words like
“autumnal”,
but year after
painfully consistent year,
fall never comes.
and though my geographic location
used to be the reason why
i could accept the absence
of changing leaves
and in-between sweaters,
i no longer believe
a word the weathermen say.
as far as i
am concerned,
the odds are stacked
against me,
and the lack of
my favorite season
is assuredly mother nature
using her powers
to laugh in my face.
