sometimes, hell no

you reach an age where the word
no

falls easily from your lips.
you stop doing all the things you

never did like doing.

the long conversations
on the phone

end with, I have to go now.

you stop reading a bad book.
a bad poem.

you have no room or patience
for the loud,
the mean,

the obnoxious.
zero tolerance for lying.

or betrayal.

you turn off the news in the middle
of
the end of the world.

you walk out of movies. send plates
of food back to the kitchen.

you leave an apple after one bite,
tossing it towards the can.

you have finally earned the right
to say no,

and sometimes hell no.