A Belletristic Bucket List

I came across this list poem in an old notebook this week – well, only the first part can really claim to be a poem, the rest is more of a hum – it was called Bucket List, but it isn’t a proper bucket list either. Entirely devoid of such entries as, “Go to Coachella,” or “Run a marathon.” However, even though few of my goals require either serious training or an extensive collection of bralettes, I haven’t done any of them since I made the list. Seriously, I need to get my priorities in line – here I’ve been toiling to make a fortune, when all I really needed for contentment was $12.39 to buy a meat cleaver. Anyway, here’s my inaptly named list hum. What might yours include?

Bucket List

I’ll buy a small apartment
I’ll paint it cherry-red
And eat a box of chocolates
While lying on my bed.

Drink champagne from a teapot
Cut my hair in the kitchen at 3am
Start new
Take a road trip in a car without a radio
Fall in love with the back of someone’s neck
Have a very public breakdown
Live alone in a house by a lake
Slap someone
Kiss a boy in corduroy
Walk barefoot in the snow
Wash my hair in rainwater
Live inside a locket
Grow a rosebush
Pick blackberries
Bathe in a stream
Dry in the sun till I’m bleached
Bring home my own Christmas tree
Make a pot of jam
Write a letter that someone keeps
Have poached pears with saffron at a dinner party
Be excorcised
Garden a medicine cabinet
Get revenge
Pierce someone’s ear
Make a Christmas pudding
Follow a map
Break a bone
Own a meat cleaver
Give someone flowers
Smoke a hookah
Tell them I’m sorry
See film melting onscreen
Fall asleep in the bath
Fill my room with sunflowers
Dance around a bonfire
Toast the perfect marshmallow
Feel how heavy a crown is
Sleep through Sunday
Kiss a stranger on New Year’s
Make someone laugh
Get lost
Twenty letters to a friend
Share a popsicle
Lose my mind
Eat a bagel
Make an entrance
Make an exit


2 thoughts on “A Belletristic Bucket List

  1. girl, you need to come to one of my dinner parties. you could make an entrance, make someone laugh, slap someone, and eat my brandy-and-saffron-poached pears.


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