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On the death of the philosophy of hope
When lost at sea
and bailing like hell
from a leaky tub
to be amazed
narrates its own
amazement meriting
belief through
a willingness
to believe
in what can't be seen
but hoped,
like the expectation
of immanent rescue
as if the Coast Guard
were created
for the sole purpose
of saving
you from yourself.
The Black Forest
isn't black anymore
than the Red Sea
is red
but in some places
the Red Sea
is black
and sometimes,
when walking through
the Black Forest,
people have been known
to see red
and I bet,
if you turn left
at Blarney Street
and walk up
Wit's End Road,
you'll see the world
as a shiny reflection
off of someone else's
brand new Porsche.
Each reflection
a vindication
bringing you closer
to that unlikely
realization
that represents
the act of hoping
against all hope.
poem
copyright 2005
scott malby
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"Return" c2004
Alexandre Nodopaka
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