Poetry Thursday: The Truth Fairy

woman in mud wrestling pit

You would like
for that life-changing job offer,
that surprise legacy
from a long-lost relative
or never-known billionaire angel,
that exquisitely crafted apology
emanating waves of old love and new understanding
to wash up on the shores of your inbox
one morning
as you settle in
with that first kickass mug
of hot coffee.

You would. Who wouldn't?

We are human
and the truth of us
is as much about looking
for speedier shortcuts
and easier escape hatches
and handier scapegoats
and better numbing devices
as it is
that we fuck up
again and again
and again,
despite our double-pinky swears,
despite our excellent intentions,
despite our hundred-thousand-million
aborted attempts
at overcoming our obvious

I do the best I can
which ain't much of much
most days,
but still is my best:
to walk slowly
to pay attention
to write
to work
to slow the fuck down
and choose the second
or third
or eighty-seventh impulse
and wherever
humanly possible.

Watch me fail and fail,
each time more gloriously
than the last
if I am lucky.

If I am doing
it right...


Image by stinkie pinkie via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.