roaring twenties

The century is twenty years old.
My roaring twenties, they are running out.
What have I gained along the road, though?

Life pulsing in my veins, like fervent jazz;
First wrinkles (I pretend I don't care);
And some material for quite a few
sitcoms (see Friends, Sex and the City)
As well as for an independent drama,
Supposedly rather low-budget.

With each new jerk expanding population
Of a potential state which I would gladly
mark on the map as - get it right! - New Jerksey,
(what do you think of my allusion, Joseph?),
I definitely lose a bit of hope.
I hopefully keep my shit together.

I might be this some angry little lady,
But I'm just fine: I'm eager to discover
New rhythms, new aesthetics, new whatever...
Whatever comes with something that you call
most probably some regional Renaissance,
Or, maybe, it's more personal and I
am ready to start risking and succeeding
in rearranging chaos.

I trust myself - and that's what really counts.

feb 2020