Eating has been a real problem of late. As always. I'm going to be traveling for the next day or so and will be away, but just wanted to post one of my favorite poems from a long time ago that's been rattling around in my brain the last few days:
"Villanelle If You Want To Be A Bad-Ass," by Jennifer Michael Hecht. [tw: ableist word choice]
You will not be rewarded for remaining long the same.
You will, of course, be taunted if you ever try to change.
When trainers wander off, tigers, please do not stay tame.
Consistency is worse, it brings the wrong kind of fame.
The orbit of right action has a freakin’ woolly range.
You will not be rewarded for remaining long the same.
It, inertia, is a pity. It, stagnation, is a shame. Yet you
yourself preach caution as you pace your unlocked cage:
“When trainers wander off, tigers, please do not. Stay tame.”
Be a mountain if you want to, be the whole mountain range.
Will you, in turn, be hostage to your hostage on the page?
You will not.
Be rewarded for remaining long the same?
You can say what you want when the angel makes you lame.
You can wrestle against water, you can rape your own rage
(when trainers wander off). Tigers, please do not stay tame.
As hard as bleeding a tree to death by cut and squeezing,
change
from out of the gut of the rut’s range will be insanely
hard.
But you will not be rewarded for remaining long the same,
when trainers wander off, tigers, please do not stay tame.
