you can’t live, constantly thinking
a baby grand’s about to fall
on your head. can’t always be
scanning the horizon for tornados
like a human doppler radar
there is a difference between
black swans and white
foresight and paranoia
the latter borne of compulsion
a recipe for worrying to death
life is not a communist party congress
filled with five-year plans
uncertainty a beast
that cannot be tamed
beyond checking the forecast
and buying insurance
besides, you deserve joy
as you wait for the axe to swing
to see the future
as an unmanned fortune
a carnival of self