Casually Suicidal on Vacation in Rome

I’m jealous of the birds.
They can throw themselves off St. Peter’s Basilica,
And not hear their parents and brother fight.

I should do the right thing and throw myself
Off the precipices of every ruin,
Unfortunately I’m a coward—
And city officials caged all the high points years ago,
With the risk of murders and suicides,
But I’m a brilliant young woman,
I’m sure iron bars are no match for me—

While my brother won’t meet my mother’s eyes,
I see that one euro can get you a cup of water
At one of the highest points in Rome,
Or a shot of tequila from that pasta place
A block away from the Pantheon.
I get the water,
But if I ever get a cosmic mulligan,
I’m downing the shot and choking.

My family stumbles on a rocky peace
As they navigate the cobblestones,
And I make it out of the Vatican.
The cheap tequila is a story I’ll invent at parties,
And my brother and mother and father will still argue,
But once I’m back in Utah and they’re in Houston,
I won’t have to look at them so closely.

It all works out.
I’ll find my wings someday.
If not, I’m near mountains
And gravity is always waiting.