I could have been a saint
but loved the streets too much.
Though the virgin martyrs shone like lamplight
they were cold comfort on a Saturday night.
I would have worked harder for world peace
but clipping coupons, hunting dust bunnies, Mafia Wars, and making impossible pies
was more than I could handle.
I might have been a Buddha
with a belly full of satyagraha
and finished my novel, my thesis,
and also, the Christmas afghan.
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