Happiness is a guilt wrapped package.
I say this as a joke
but the things are going right now
with this empty glass of what used to be
an ice cream coffee float...
well, happiness is a
stomach expanding cup of pleasure-guilt.
And yet the afternoon's not-so-hot wind
is wonderful enough against my face
and this ice cream parlor sits in the most perfect shade
wrapped by passing noisiness
so that maybe happiness isn't guilt-ridden
but simply wrapped like a layer cake
or an ice cream pop or maybe
I've just eaten too many sweets lately
and in my happiness I've begun to day-dream --
and is that so bad?
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