I grow tired of people comparing us to stars
as if we are not already enough.
there is some of that in all of us! cries the poet.
no! I peel my sticky legs off the porch
we emit so much more than light and gas
we are so much more capable of warmth than ursa major
we are so much brighter than sirius
we have so much more depth than the mariana trench
we do beautiful and evil things
no! I walk inside
no! I draw my blinds
no! I don’t look outside until the sun rises.
I am brimming with hope and love and passion,
and not the metaphorical kind.
I’d like to see a star do that."