I Wish Everybody Loved Me

by Eric Chaet

I learn by osmosis, but unlearn on purpose.

My ambition is certainly not to be a poet.
If I send you a poem, I’m not submitting it—
I’m doing you a favor.

I’m glad to do it—I mean I’m really glad to do it.
I don’t mind when you do me some equivalent favor, tho.

My ambition is to be as good a plumber as I am a poet—
as good a mechanic, electrician, engineer, farmer—
as good a chemist, mathematician, manager
of what’s available & what’s not available.

My ambition is to feel what it really is to be
a particular loud little wren or pastel blue fungus
on a dead branch in a breeze under bright white clouds.

My ambition is to be as powerful as Napoleon was
but without killing anyone or coming to a bad end.
My ambition is be as rich as Bezos or Buffett
without squeezing what anyone needs out of her or him.

I’m confident I could manage my enormous wealth
as, for decades, I’ve successfully managed my scarcity.

My ambition is to be a medicine man, surgeon, nurse—
to be low maintenance, highly useful, sufficiently fit
& equipped, skillful, confident, & brave enough
to require no payment or even acknowledgement or awareness
while aware, myself, of my life-time of errors
& residual ignorance, vulnerability, & imminent mortality.

My ambition is—fearless & joyful—
to use judo & their own monumental momentum
to toss any attacking delusional egotists
or organism or organization composed of their clones.

My ambition is to transform human desire & endeavor
without forcing anyone to think or do this or that—
so we stop throwing wrenches in one another’s break-thrus.

My ambition is to reach the widest possible audience
of people who would be receptive & benefit from my words
if only I choose the right words & leave out all the rest—
& to choose just those words, effecting the greatest liberation
&, otherwise, to refrain from singing & dancing & posing
as serious, brilliant, & important, for acclaim & higher status.

I wish everybody loved me—but I can stand it that they don’t.


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