Simple Satisfactions Poem by Vincent Cibelli

All anyone wants is the simplest satisfactions. Some may not want to pay the complicated prices. Some may want to exchange or haggle. The girl in the Laundromat wants four quarters for her dollar. The drifter I met on a Chicago street wanted some pocket change to scrounge together a small bite to eat. A desperate mind wandering down deserted streets wants to find truth in strangers diverted eyes. The strangers want desperately to disguise their discontentment from the apathetic world. I have a friend who wants that car, with these options, and of course the leather package. A cow doesn’t want anything, but if it did, I doubt it would want a car with leather interior; maybe just to be saved from the abattoir and to graze on one-sided pastures. Grass wants to be tall and green, not chopped down when it seems to be growing strong. The addicted just want one more hit. Their loved ones want them to quit; seeing their eyes sinking and bodies thinning. A fearful man dying on a comfortable bed wants just one more beat of his tired heart. The overfilled womb wants the birth to start. My aunt really wants a girl; my uncle wants a first born boy. The religious want salvation; agnostics want explanations, while atheists want to be right. I can tell by the incessant whining of my cat that he wants to be fed. Fighters want unquenchable vengeance. Pacifists want peace with visualized whirled peas and an organically grown apple. Teachers want to observe success in the students that want to learn. Others just want class to end. The successful want to earn infinitely. Trophy wives seem to want to spend their husband’s salary. A frame wants to compliment its picture. The picture wants to be framed. Tables want to be eaten upon. Televisions want to always be on and affixing eyes to their repetitive inaction. Of course writers want to write. Painters want to paint. Doctors want a moment where they don’t have to think. The passionate want passion, like radicals want action. Musicians, if they don’t want fame, want to make music. Some odd people just want to quote Dylan lyrics. I don’t want to fit you in to one of my high sentences; all I really want to do is to be friends with you.