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Andreas and I Had a Date For Me to Impart Wisdom

Susan Anmuth

But he agreed only under duress
So as not to have the chat right then.

What is your passion? I planned to begin.
What did you want to be most, as a child?
I would ignore his flip answers, like to grow up, or to always remain a child.
(flip yet telling.)

And now. If time, effort, money disappeared, what would you most like to be/do?
Oh, I’d begin with how he’s already achieved a most necessary part of a good life: love.

Eventually we’d get to, if he tolerated the process, a daily day.
What to do very first when he gets up.
For example,
I write a poem. It grounds me.
Wait a minute. I feed the cat, make coffee, pour a glass of water my newest morning fix, take Ritalin my second newest everything fix, then I read a poem.
Then I write a poem.

To write a poem I change the font to Times New Roman, the number to 12, the line space to 1.5. after finding Word.
I drink my water, some of my coffee, pet my cat who sits at the key board looking into my eyes.
You’d think I didn’t have a dog! But I do, and she lies like a paramecium on the nearest dog bed keeping eye and ear cocked that I don’t leave the house without her.

In the event, Andreas didn’t show.

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