The End of Everything

You know your dreams are stupid.
Rubber tree plant stupid.
First act horror stupid.
You can’t help it.
You can’t drop it
– not yet
not without digging yourself a little bit deeper.
You hold onto these stupid irrational incessant dreams
despite the ridiculosity or impossibility or whatnot.

Hope – despite reason
and effort, sense,
and a good talking to
from your better angels –
marches on.
Dreams last. You strive
and will continue to reach
for that piece of the pie.

Sure, it’s bad for you.
Probably, when you grasp it,
you won’t have the utensils
to properly eat it.
Maybe you can’t even stomach that kind of pie
or maybe pie isn’t even the right metaphor to begin with.
Maybe you’re reaching for pie
but you’ll actually be grabbing a mathematical concept
and you can’t put your arms around an irrational number.

Whatever. The real issue is:
you can’t quit yet
even though you should.
You’re just too stupid
today.
Maybe tomorrow.
We’ll see then.

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