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If I was nineteen again
(a fate I would wish on no one)
If I was nineteen again and KNEW things
instead of being old and just wondering
what is wrong with me, as I just wonder
while the other old people are SO SURE
like we were when we were nineteen.

If I was nineteen again, I would be SO SURE
But I am old, and am sure about so much less
I am sure
I am sure about the feel of my toes spreading on the mat in mountain pose
I am sure about my breath pushing out against my elastic yoga pants
I am sure about the crunch of an onion as it yields to my knife
I am sure about the burning tears I am crying from the onion
(Yes, that is it, not the news, the onion)
I am sure about the aroma of garlic in olive oil saying this is home
I am sure about the scritch of a scrubber as I attack the bathtub’s scummy ring
I am sure about the ink flowing onto my blank page
I am sure about stepping in yet another pool of warm puppy drool on the cool wood floor

And yet, these things I am sure about now
I had no clue about
when I was nineteen
and KNEW everything
When I was nineteen and believed
I could fix the world
I could fix the country
I could fix myself
I would know what to do about guns
I would know what to do about health care
I would know what to do about corporations running the world
I would know better than anyone.
I could do it all when I was nineteen and KNEW
(absolutely nothing.)