I prefer going to movies alone.
I prefer to star in life alongside other people.
I prefer a soaking along the Atlantic.
I prefer Keyes to Keynes.
I prefer myself liking myself
to myself disliking everyone else.
I prefer to keep a needle on the record, than just CDs in cases .
I prefer the colour clean.
I prefer not to make a mountain
out of every cliff.
I prefer inceptions.
I prefer to finish, nearly.
I prefer talking to police about something else.
I prefer coast-lined habitations.
I prefer the absurdity of writing to myself
to the absurdity of speaking this to others.
I prefer, where love’s concerned, specific anniversaries
that can be celebrated every year.
I prefer loyalists
who plámás me nothing.
I prefer being mindful to mindfulness.
I prefer the down-to-earth civilians.
I prefer listening to being listened to.
I prefer having some ultimatums.
I prefer the heaven of chaos to the hell of order.
I prefer the what’s not to the what’s hot
I prefer leaving with hugs to arriving to kisses.
I prefer unchopped tales to truncated tweets.
I prefer truthful eyes, since mine are no good at lying.
I prefer writing bureaus.
I prefer many things that I haven’t mentioned here
to many things I’ve also left unsaid.
I prefer heroes you’ve never heard of
to those most feted figures you have.
I prefer the Time of  Tom Waits to the Time of New York’s Square.
I prefer to step on the cracks.
I prefer not to ask how and why.
I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility
that persistence has its own way of navigating.

(With more than a passing nod to Wislawa Szymborska)