Temperance

by Sebastian Páramo, on temperance

What I like most is the perfect sun.

The weekends at the city lake.

under clouds like lonely horses

and my favorite tree. I brought street tacos,

a Topo Chico to share with this view of people

strolling life. I take a sip.

When the evening slicks its hair back.

Fall asleep on me, city.

When I come awake, I’ll finally

read the book someone gifted me

years ago. I’ll decide to get up and spin in circles.

With practice, I’ll eat my youth finally.

What I once held dear is a picture at the fair.

It’s me atop the Texas Star in October.

I want to ask the question that becomes

my wisdom—are you not satisfied yet?

Let me sit above this city.

Briefly. Taller than a building,

Is this enough?

I want to savor this minute.