I don’t know about you,
but I have always been out here
trying hard not to get too lost.
All these snake-like paths take us far from what we need,
away from the things that could soothe or help.
Ah, but some of those snake paths are shining.
Most of the food there looks better.
Often, those roads seem less lonely.
But you are older now -
too old not to know a mirage when you see it.
The food is heavy and plotting;
the drink will likely betray you;
parties will threaten your life force.
Noise is an awful distraction!
People are complicated, dangerous, lovely;
mostly a waste of your time
and yet,
who wants to spend a lifetime
doing only the necessary,
only the things that one should?
This, my reader,
is where I keep getting stuck.
I’ll take a late night and a dodgy alibi
for strong hits of the wilderness.
We’ll take an ill-thought-out
decision
for a well-timed apology,
right?
No, but really, what are we here for
if not to make more of each other
and cry and sweat a bit/
if not to writhe in the deep agonies of life
and laugh/console/protect/understand
make love to each other?
I am always learning something,
whether I want to or not.
Last night a man in a pub was leering at me.
I asked if he was alright,
already knowing the answer. He nodded,
I smiled. Both of us were lying.
Don’t ask me; I’m only the writer
and barely even that. I make a living
from Not Quite Knowing
and presenting the quandary in these
stunted, blunt lines.
Here is an example of such a dilemma -
how not to make it about you
when everything is definitely about you
or about me, or the children,
the animals, the raging planet,
the solar system
the question of God,
or why this has to hurt.