I started “Happiness Is A State I Want To Call Home” last night and finished it this morning. What inspired me to write this was, in order: learning a friend had terminal cancer, reading the first half of Richard Ford’s The Sportswriter, and my own incurable restlessness. Looking at this poem on the page I am hypnotized by the funky “F” it calls to mind.
I wrote the poem in HTML format, in a way where each quatrain arrived at the same stopping point. The web site does not reflect this. Womp womp womp! I blame my fixation with the lines matching on an article I read about celebrities with obsessive compulsive disorder. Cameron Diaz and Leo DiCaprio have it, I learned.
Happiness is a state I want to call home
Not the other 50 because they are flawed
I want to see brightness in all I behold
Make this change with the wave of a wand
Too much to ask, I know
Magic can’t renew souls
Happiness, oh happiness
Where does our time go?
A man once told me, “We’re all terminal”
Urgency compels us: dream big, live bold
Your heart’s baggage is too heavy to haul
Banish hatred, bigotry to side of the road
This is all so exciting
Everything we see, feel
The new and old, we are
Alive, once and for all