I don't like to do what I am told

I have been told to welcome little me's into the room

The professor slash lawyer slash bill payer me

enters willingly, stays until

A clawing, owning, ruining

spotlight-stealing me

seeps into the cheap paneling

sprawls across the floor

sits centered, a mantle clock

a centerpiece too big for its

practical rectangular table

and none of you will be surprised at this
I am not surprised at this

the little tiniest me in baby blue

big bird bloomers

boycotts this me party

But wouldn't it be

like a Sunday morning drive

through sunflower farms
like a day of kite flying, a picnic of strawberries

like the day we brought the kids,

tanned our bodies, and splashed
like the smallest of all me's,
wouldn't it be like that day

if all of me's switched places

if centered things were placed

to the cold outside left and

baby blue bloomer wearers

sat cross legged on coffee tables

saying I do not care

that I was not invited.