This is called "Thirty-Third Year."
And it is for Will.
"You can see already how this will work out for you.
You will dither into and out of your days.
You will find the conditions with which to talk a good game.
Oh, that California sun, the air is just cleaner out here.
As the vines grow tighter around the house,
this time, a borrowed one, shared
with 22 white eccentrics, three of whom
are the children you used to say you wanted, but no longer see
as viable.
Who gets to live the life they think they want?
So few curate with energy.
You'll come to an end which will feel final, but naturally
also be a beginning.
And you can see how that phase will work out for you too.
It's all a single thread, after all, a single braid.
Only looking closely do you see the frays.
Do the vines grow tighter?
You'll seek help from two women dedicated to helping others.
And they will be unable to help you,
despite your organizing your life around their help.
That's the way it is, you know.
You look to the left, and to your right,
a golden ticket falls from the sky.
You write a book of poems, and your hero, at your book party,
tosses her hand through the air to tell
her friend, who's just asked who you are, that you are nobody."
True story that.
[LAUGHTER]
It's all right, I got a couple lines out of it.
How's everybody doing?
You're doing all right?
Yeah?
Good.
All right.