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The Dream of a Dignified Retreat



I want enough money
to walk the earth
until I find a back alley
with pretty flowers
and a few rooms
behind a forgotten door.
And a small garden.

I want to eat
what I want when I want,
to read
what I want when I want,
to write
what I want when I want,
and for one or two women
to notice my austere excellence.

Then, then,
the world may continue
setting itself on fire.
If it's going to burn,
if it's so determined, so desperate
to burn,
then I don't want to be its friend,
or its servant,
anymore.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.