On the other hand there’s a feeling of freedom
In having nothing to say
To which the unsympathetic critic replies
Must you impose your freedom on the world
Well yes we must
Note the plural
White cake with pink frosting
Or yellow cake with chocolate frosting
Or chocolate cake with pecan frosting
Or bundt cake with a sort of drippy glaze
Or avocado on toast
You know like the kids

You see it never occurs to me
To use words like purity
Or correct or efficient or effective
A big big butterfly so dark
Almost black
Alit upon a sunflower
Slowly opening and closing its wings

I’m not Pollyanna
Of course it’s not all sweetness and light
An unpredictable distribution of pleasure and pain

But it needn’t be heavy or pointed or bringdownish
And there’s pleasure to be found in tragedy and comedy
In confession and bemused observation
In monuments of unaging intellect and day-old bread
In rowdy guffaws and mirthless chuckles
In female cardinals and plastic figures of Boba Fett
In tears of sorrow and tears of joy
In draildrig shir pmisti effrent
In tender sentiment and righteous jeremiad
In lazy Sunday and back-to-work Monday
It’s super easy to find pleasure
Even in the town where everybody thinks pleasure is bad
Or they think that’s what they should think