little attacks of hope...

there are days when I almost forget about that thing
I can't do
days when I can pretend that I could
do that
& not have to wonder what might happen...
those are dangerous days
perhaps it's why I take such morbid delight in their unfolding
& why
this perverse simultaneity of exhaustion and exhilaration
fills me with the lie of possibility
I know I never have done that with which I torment myself
& that I don't have any idea what would happen were I to follow that
but please, let's not dignify this with words like impulse...
it's not the disappointment that's killing me
it's the hope *

*with thanks to Mimi for these lines and much more...


the walking man said...

We present our claim ticket and wait for the valet to bring our hope around to the front door, all filled with gas and freshly washed. Simply because the license plate says "hope" as it hangs on the bumper doesn't make the vehicle hope.

No, hope is expressed in the crumpled food wrappers with the empty cans rolling around on the back seat, the dead cigarettes falling out of the ashtray and the beat up and torn road map with all the ink and pencil notes written next to the roads.

Hope includes the possibility of disappointment, failure and flat tires but it does not include the not getting in and turning the key.

Harlequin said...

...or learning how to hot wire in the absence of a key...
as some friends of mine are quick to point out... good intentions are no excuse!
thanks for the insights...