NEPHART.COM

People are making resolutions.

Someone wants a new nose,

new hair,

fresh muscles.

I will have a new ear.

In the new year

my resolution will be dissolution.

They may call me disillusioned,

say I am not influential,

not doing what others do.

Good things find their way.

The new year is just an excuse.

I can declare a new year in February

and nobody will ask why.

I can live with my own calendar.

Four hundred days a year.

Nine days a week.

I can live my life with some decency,

some urgency,

maybe with a little trick.

Things will change anyway.

You will meet people

who try to scare you,

saying next year

the world will turn upside down.

We will not be hanging like bats.

Gravity has not lost its mind.

You will not receive news saying

electricity is free,

no council tax,

mortgages paid by someone else.

Whatever year it is,

the bank will not leave you alone.

Even if you die

they will dig you up

and ask you to pay.

So what else would I do?

Maybe I will practice mindfulness.

Let people say whatever they want.

Maybe a little tolerance,

forgiveness.

No need to argue.

You cannot expect a donkey to dance

if all it knows is braying.

2026, deep down my mind is praying,

laying,

saying:

You have to come out of your crust.

Old skin should change.

Cleanse your soul.

Find your goal.

Do not forget to smile.

Not for others,

but for the person

you see in the mirror

while holding a comb.

My hair has not been combed

for seven years.

Last time was my wedding.

Had to do it anyway

for the pictures.

Now I have a pocket phone

where the camera only sees me.

I do not care.

Something to fix.

Something to repair.

Nothing much to share.

I am a superstar

still falling through the atmosphere.

Oh 2026,

disintegrate me.