Knox Too Much of a Good Thing

Give me too much of good

things. Pour out bounty

on me until I’m treading to stay

afloat, gasping for breath,

drowning in abundance,

begging for a moment’s respite

from the first bite of warm pizza

and dogs jumping up to where you sit

to curl up against you and seventy-two-degree

days in June.

Give me enough to go

into the First Citizens Bank

of Plenty and open a savings

account where I can sock away

some lucky breaks to see me through

the next season of misadventure.

Allow me more of you

than I ever asked for

or even deserve.

I’ve lived in the thin days, on

the singing edge of the knife, in the orchard

with the barren trees. I’ve ached

with hunger in the land

of Plenty.

I’m prepared for more good

than I know what to do with.

Universe, I’m ready when you are.

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