if i ever make it

i’m not sure how

i’ll take it

–

will i

find myself humble

magnanimous

gracious

in victory

or perhaps

flaunt my good fortune

sinking sparkling silver knives

and forks into prime cuts

of only the most savory meats

tossing scraps into the bowls of

mangy mongrels

who scorned me

–

i see myself

adorned

in the finest fineries

laughing and smiling with zeal

running in to

him or her

reacting in performative shock

laying it on thick

as their pallid face freezes

palsied

–

maybe i’d just

slink away

cherish the good will of some

faceless cosmic being

so kind enough as to grant me safe passage

upon these brackish

celestial waters

blanket myself in the warmth

of self-satisfaction

living out my final days

in monastic solitary

bliss

–

these are questions for another day though

for i’m still searching for

It