John Clarke Altman: What if I’m not wrong

What if I’m not wrong about this grass, and it is the softest toes can feel?

Wouldn’t that be something?

 

What if I’m not wrong and your eyes are the deepest and most compelling?

Then I could fall unrelenting into truthful adoration.

 

What if we aren’t mistaken

And the song that lifts our car is the best ever?

And our night wouldn’t be spoiled by the knowledge of second place.

 

What if it were true

And the cross-town burger joint does have the best number 1 with fries and a coke?

Then showing it to your mom wouldn’t make you so nervous for her review.

 

What if the July heartbreak was the worst pain?

And every other kind felt like heaven in comparison.

That would have made me feel stronger and less like a baby.

 

What if we lived this way? Wouldn’t it be more fun? What if this was the greatest poem ever?