the story of my life

i'd be sitting here, in my swirly costco chair, typing random letters on the screen trying to make sense of this job when it would come. in cardboard wrapping which would take me 10 minutes to yank off. and there it would be. my book, glossy cover, bright, abstract painting and my story, embedded with poetry. a tear would roll followed by a hundred others splashing unnoticed and i would dance. maybe sit in my underwear in the rain. maybe collapse into bed and stare at the ceiling for hours. and then, i would leave this rolling chair and forlorn office and fly to italy where another book would unravel before me. like a red carpet, leading into a life of delirious joy.