the long and skinny

i wanted to write this poem
about tiny purple flowers
that grow on a hill
and i imagined
that it would be long and
skinny,
the poem,
and that it would go on
for pages and pages
so that it would definitely be,
or at least
feel,
worth
your
money;
but then just now
as i started
writing
it
i

realized it’s very hard
to make a poem
that’s
long
and
skinny
and that my thoughts just don’t quite work that way,
and that no poem,
however fat,
is worth
cutting
down
and
breaking
short
and
slimming
just to please
.
.
.

i realized, in short, that i simply couldn’t write the long and skinny, that i couldn’t go on for days and days, that i couldn’t make it worth your money, and that to me, that’s a-okay.