I was thiknin'

Why do I always need to reorder lists

So that heavier, or worse things

Follow the lesser ones, as in:

"disappointment and tragedy"

vs.

"tragedy and disappointment"

It's like—Disappointment?!  Pft, we have tragedy here, man!

I wonder, would I have this proclivity

If I were from another country

Then I think

Nah

I'd be hangin' in that forest

A haiku stapled to my tie

In later years, my writings tend to incorporate hope

I hint at it, allude to it, or even praise it outright

But I have so precious little of my own...and I wonder why

I thought of Pavlov:

If a dog is beaten every time it approaches people food

Eventually, after years of abuse

That dog will cringe whenever it sees a delicious morsel

To the point that the dog could be left alone with a steak

Without daring to sniff at it, likely afraid to even consider it

I realized, I am that dog

Beaten down by life, disappointment, tragedy, solitude

Driven to terror by the possibility—even the hint—of hope

I wonder if there are any therapists out there

Who accept payment in kibble...

Awaken refreshed, hush the alarm, time for another caper,
cuddle with the kitty, good morning, my fuzzy lil slayer!

Feed the furballs, cereal for me, start the coffee maker,
may be a good day today, at least it looks good on paper.

Drain the main, check the mirror, what-up my playa—
wait a sec, is it my self-hate, or am I a little greyer?

Inhale my morning nicotine with a sugary caffeine chaser,
hazelnut and doubt, mmm, that's my favorite flavor...

Brush and shave, step into the Hypothetical Argument Simulator,
hope follows soap down the drain—oh well—see ya later!

All dressed up, glance to verify the happiness imitator,
hold my chin up high, but only for the cologne sprayer.

Front door locked, start the car, on the lookout for hidden radar,
try to outrun the bitterness, traffic jam, wish this were single-player.

Make it to work in one piece, if just the outer layer,
brain boiling beneath, my good old trusty traitor.

There's a certain comfort, a serene solace, that falls over me when I think about you.

Like fall air.

Like falling into bed.

Like falling in love again.

Gravitational Arc, my debut poetry collection, is now available in paperback and on Kindle!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FQ46FNR6