|| Stories/Poems: Waiting|
Waiting is hard. Waiting – when there’s nothing
you can do about the outcome – is hard –
hard on mind and body, hard on the spirit, hard hard hard.
Waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the first shoe,
waiting for the centipede to have all bare feet –
waiting for spring –
and there’s nothing you can do bring spring sooner –
waiting for the economy
to bottom out, turn around, improve –
and what can you do about it?
Waiting for the war to end? Which one?
What can you do about it? Or them? ...
Waiting for the ocean to rise and wash away your island,
your shorefront, your comprehension of life on earth?
What are you doing about that?
What else might you be waiting for? Justice?
Armageddon? Old age? Mercy? Peace on earth?
Tornados, hurricanes, blizzards?
An angel with your winning lottery number?
What do you do, while you’re waiting, helplessly?
Learn new words? Like hypertheoretical, vatic, or triassic?
How long will you have to wait to learn them all?
How long will any of us have to wait? Till the asteroid gets here?
Meanwhile you can exercise. No harm in that. And if
the asteroid misses us or the depression passes
or they stop killing people in your neighborhood –
or even if they don’t – at least you’ll be fit.
Waiting will always be hard, but it won’t be as hard if you
distract yourself with a useful pastime – or even a useless one.
Make a list of a hundred different ways to kill yourself –
figure out which one is best – by the time you get an answer,
you probably won’t feel suicidal any more –
and if you do, at least you’ll have a decent way to end the waiting.
I hope you enjoyed the text version of this piece. Did you know you can listen to this and many others performed by The Panthers on Spoxtalk.com ?
Or visit The Panthers Archive
[09 March 2009]
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