“hope springs eternal” etc.
confronted with questions
about the men who sojourn
in and out of my life
i retreat instinctively behind
an agnostic cloud
having long believed
my tangos with fate
to be private affairs
clutched tight to my chest
like a grenade
there is still plenty of time
for things to go wrong with us:
plagues of locusts
descending from the sky
cordyceps sprouting silently
in the night, casual profession
of republican faith
from ominous x-ray shadows
to lurking muggers
the future is uncharted by definition
most disasters unplanned
but what if things went right
my love?
what if they went right
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