If I reinvent myself every couple of years,
will I ever get it right?
Will it be, at my age, unseemly,
like taking up tap dancing
or modeling without clothes?
I’ve watched childbirth,
with its trauma of being rushed
helpless, without recourse,
into a dry, cold,
and glaring world.
The world that used to seem pretty bad,
with its alienation, racism, fear of the Bomb,
now seems even worse.
Being born again isn’t easy
for someone lazy like me.