Rich Ferguson

What I Said to the Genie in the Bottle Turned Therapist

I wanna throw caution to the wind, but there’s a hurricane outside. Wanna earthquake

proof my soul, but I’m already shaken. I wanna genuflect in the chapel of longed-for

happily ever afters, but my knees are broken. Wanna wipe the smirk off Hate’s face,

but don’t have a big enough wash rag. I wanna engage in rousing games of dodgeball

but the government keeps playing DOGE. Wanna turn bullets into birds, but don’t

have enough feathers. I want us to flourish in Indian summers of sweetness, but

we’ve become soul-stricken by too many winters of discontent. I wanna save the

world, but don’t know where to begin.