Orphans Poem by Camilla Keenan Koch

Orphans, I’m afraid.
Hating showers with the kind of resentment
Usually reserved for the absence of god
Or, more rightly,
The impermanence of baptism
Cardinal sin:
Irresponsible slothful hopelessness
Cardinal joy:
Irresponsible slothful hopefulness
I never remember to stop confusing the true north
With my own.
Were we asked to grow up too soon?
Who asked?
Why, how, complied?
If complied
That should be
I think to see
Rebellion is childish
Whose child am I now?

Once upon a time
The world was real
I validate it personally now
(Like a parking ticket, like my faith)
Exploring a singular descartesian plane
Seemed like a good idea at the time.
Resolve me, please.