i tried to read the text
and it was like pulling
my own teeth from my mouth
absent physical pain.
i tried to live the life
and the reason bored
me to the tears i was expected
to hold back.
i longed to find simplicity
and joy simultaneously
but the words upon the page
contradicted both.
and so i’ve decided that
Marcus Aurelius is not for me,
too much guilt in the (not) reading.
i might make a fair minimalist,
but i’m a bad stoic.
i threw the book in a bag
bound for Goodwill
and returned to more
important reading:
the poetry of Jim Carroll.