Choice

I itch to write long sentences
and track all my curious thoughts.
I wish to paint in oils the combinations
nature forgot. I ache to
to wander the green campus
and photograph against it beautiful nymphs
and to roam the city and graph its
sickly sweet sights.

But would I recognise the trade-offs,
find the will to stand by this life,
and turn blind to other petty ones
that constantly woo a baser mahesh.