Day 74.

from CSSSA; the prompt was to write instructions to someone else

How To Live With Being An Insatiable Klutz

You will smack into the cabinet protruding from the wall. Take it
in stride; run into
other walls; make it a dance.
You will skid on the wet floor, unstoppable momentum.
Keep that look of terror off your face-- this is only a move that took all your years to perfect.
You will walk into plate glass. Pretend to be a bird--
dazed but flying.
You will spill drinks at every opportunity, onto other people's things--
when you go for paper towels to wipe it up, drop them airily on the floor
like snowflakes and
with your feet, push them in a pile.
You will injure people accidentally-- a door swung open exactly wrong,
sudden movements-- this too you can live with, though
they will remember you by a scab or faded scar.
A tumbled, I'm so sorry, and then run off because
you're not just a klutz, you're a socially incapable klutz.
You will break the unbreakable plates your mom bought. Call it
a science experiment.
You will put your foot through the windshield of the family car.
Probably while on the freeway-- but you're the reason they made car glass that crumbles
instead of breaking-- so don't worry.
You will find new verbs for falling, use millions of years of evolved and refined limbs in altogether new ways--
you will not be the dancer in the music box, twirling consistently
but who wants to open to the world on command?
Glory in your freedom from gracefulness, and
you can live with being a klutz.