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Hear the author read this poem
Accept the things you cannot change:
the bleating clock,
the nightly go
—dog leash in tow—
around the block,
neural chemistry,
patchy hair,
a longing stare
and X-ray eye,
and the niggling fact
that things will stay
roughly this way,
to be exact.
Forgive the things you cannot have:
the supple bod,
taut undergrads,
a nicer pad,
long chats with God,
an older name,
your peers’ respect,
the oll korrect,
unbridled fame,
a sense of ease
in your own skin,
a lighter burden
by degrees.
The life you’d swap for on the train
(sight unseen)
is much like yours
though it appears
more green.
So, why this pain
that shorts the breath
and spoils your health?
You grow serene—
not yet, but after
your will resigns
a few more times
with heavy laughter.
National Portrait Gallery
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The Civil War
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