At the dinner table

I have an answer 
but like 
I really don’t know 
what my plans are, 
thanks for asking, 
but also, like, 
if I paid attention to myself 
for half a minute 
I would discover 
I do know the answer  
but what I want feels impossible 
because we’re all so deluded 
by this idea 
that what you do 
as in your work 
is the most important thing about you 
and not 
what you do 
because of who you are 
and I’m out here scrambling 
toward this impossible task 
to monetize my interests 
so I feel halfway satisfied 
exchanging my time 
exchanging my life 
for security 
and carving my creativity 
into stolen bites 
nibbled in the night
I can pretend tastes like dinner 
but, oh,
I am famished 
and I won’t be satisfied 
by whatever I find 
at this dinner table. 

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