A Little Bit More
Some people want just a little bit more,
Not just three bedrooms, but maybe four.
A view from above, from the second floor,
One has a spouse, but wants a whore.
A minimalist will say that they want less,
To give up want, to need - acquiesce.
To unclutter all the untidy excess,
And most of all, to let go of our stress.
But I want a little more, of life out-poured.
It isn’t life that I do deplore,
not the neighbour who lives next door,
Nor the world-travels that I paid for.
I want a little more of living ideas,
Breathing in Canada, in Thailand, Korea,
And I want less of American dreams,
Which are much, much worse than they have seemed.
I want a little more of the flat ground beside me,
I want a little more of the depth above, beneath me,
I want a little more of the quiet we’ve created,
But no more of social artifice. That's deflated!
It may very well be that we can’t find life,
for when living is lost, it is filled with strife.
It may be what happens when life has no depth,
when a little bit more is derived from “except”.

But I want a little more of life that’s in-store.
I want a little more of the Spirit at the core.
A little more of home, of love, of breath,
"A little more" is shameless in death.
Lord, grant me the song to sing with my heart,
Already it is full, life’s shopping cart,
A middle-aged man should not typically smile,
But a little bit more happens all the while.

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