many things my singer wishes she had

new shoes (comfortable, with room to walk)
and slick hair gel, pink eye shadow, a string
of sex for the chain smokers in the crowd.
amps and amps and amps.
pure satin for my dress, bikini briefs
and after-show party-time bed sheets.
a good man. perfectly tuned pianos
and background vocalists. my own lyrics,
my life surrounded by speakers.
cover art, liner notes, autobiographical
chapters in epic novels. a fire-haired
daughter, solely mine. passion. truth.
wisdom. long, brown legs in the summer
and vodka to warm me in winter.
the knowledge that life does not end at 40
and i can live for years. endless inspiration.
and i want to never die, not as long
as i'm alive and kicking.