Positive
The certainty of possibility
that the developmental experts
would have our children believe in
during youth disturbs me. Power of positive
thinking: possess it, and accomplish
all you will set out to do…
I’ve tested positive.
And, now, the prognosis does
not appear to look very good.
“Better get your house in order.”
Go figure: The chaos designed or
lit upon used to comfort and/or
suggest repose.
Nothing like a good mess
to make you appear
laid back –
evidence of a careless mind
at ease…
“Nothing can stop it now.”
Time marches on, and I’ve a cliché to beat
away, a fight on my hands.
Damned pacifist.
Lazy bones. Victim.
Come on in:
make yourself at home;
share a coffee or some chopped
liver, morsel of my people, the Jews,
who’d have you eat despite your desires
not to chew on it – that’s just their way to
get pushy with a guest.
"Don’t get out of line, now."
But what if you had nothing to lose?
Would you build a bomb?
Blow your house to smithereens
just to witness the burning, smoldering, ash?
(Some idealist I’ve turned out to be.)
"Are you positive?"
It’s asked innocently enough.
But, still, one can never be sure.
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