You are allowed to want:
A clean table.
A few things
(modest household items)
from Pier One
On sale. With coupon.
(You are also allowed,
in a lifetime,
One stainless steel trashcan
and two Lowes clearance appliances.)
You can want, desperately,
your aunt’s second-hand sofa
with its tufted pillows.
And Lindt Christmas peppermint truffles
at the after-New-Years Walgreens price.
Permission granted! Dance with true joy
when your brother gives you
a seventeen-year-old fishing truck
(your only vehicle with A/C).
(Even now, there are tears: you possess A/C.)
Don’t dare want
the smiling husband at the amphitheater concert.
Forget the gurgling grandchild, alive in your arms.
(We understood your wanting her last year,
but, really?, this year, too?)
Accept your fate. Shut up. Sit down.
Even after sixteen years–
character building via financial destruction,
$208,000 in medical bills,
a new Nissan’s worth of eyedrops.
You cannot desire relief.
It is not his fault. Not your fault.
You can’t blame anyone.
Stop all that tacky wanting.
Like what you have.
Take what you get.
And just shut up about the car.
There’s no driving away from this.