I wanted a cheap fix, a release, an anything
but the present thing, a veering from catastrophe
and know as the wind blows
there is no quick fix
but jeez, how little is granted, how stingy reality,
how it seeps its goodness,
what a frustrating partner is reason, seeming
other to my others, I tear my hair out
so I too began to dance, to shake off the tick
to make it make sense, I turned
the snow globe on its head, I spun the disk,
shook the paradigm, I know in my bones
it is good nonetheless.
