A POEM BY DIAMOND STINGILY
216 culturedmag.com
I don't know what to say the majority of times when I am asked to present myself in a light I
never asked to be in so I am quiet.
I overheard adult conversations about vacuum cleaners, ceiling fans, orthopedic shoes and
the importance of high-rise cotton underwear over homemade kombucha at a friend's birthday
party. I thought they were still in their mid 20s until I saw the cake read 32.
My friends and I agree rich people don't tip well but they love small talk and being
entertained. Then we get to go on our 30 minutes to an hour lunch breaks.
I cleaned my bedroom and brought home a man on a weekday. The next morning he told
me he liked the cryptic messages I left myself on my walls. I told him they were positive
affirmations.
The birds outside my bedroom window sang to each other and we listened until it was time
for him to go. We said goodbye through a handshake, a fist pound then a hug.
The IRS reminds me not to forget about 2015, 2016 or 2017 as my feet get flatter. I'll need
surgery for that issue one of these days but today I have to remember 2015 when it didn't hurt
as much.
We went to the farmer's market and got a list of fruits and foods. We ate our treats in the
cemetery like Victorian times and pretended not to have cell phones.
ADULT LIFE
TASTE LIKE
EGGNOG
