I wonder what it might be
to tell myself,
“Why don’t you recline
upon this red couch here?”
to assure myself,
“Don’t worry about scuffing the leather
it was a hand-me-down anyways.
I don’t make very much
off these lessons of ours.”

I wonder what I might respond
to the questions I wonder
what I want to ask myself.

Will I be a compliant client?
Open honest willing
to dive the depths
and face the bubbly fish
and other absurdities I am sure
lurk within my soul?

I guess I shall start
by asking around for a free
gently used reclining
red leather couch.

The reader brings his or her own experience to the poem and creates meaning. Here is my experience:

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About Josie

I run slowly through forests, eat spoonfuls of Jif's Natural creamy peanut butter, and perpetually wear a fuzzy Patagonia sweater I found for $1.50 at a charity shop in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I deal in trees, breeze, and threes. I'm not interested in being normal. I'm not looking to pass GO. I'm not looking for anything other than breathable freedom.