you could be not sour

you could find a hall filled by 

a comedy troupe, striving

or the sweet rounds of language

wrapped intricately around an idea

if ever there was no such thing

you could go to war with yourself again

while getting dressed at home

(but that wasn't really your thing)

or find your way out

and melt into an armchair 

just enough on display

you could cheer for the college boyfriend

of a high school friend

hoping we all get a chance

to be shiny in new places