by Stacey Mckenna

Created on: May 21, 2008

Fear Like This

desperation, existing not that far from fear and loneliness,
breeds a certain kind of dauntless confidence
in the perfection of the escapist's scheme.
is that why Houdini was so good at untying knots?

flip the coin

comfort, meaning the promise of escape but not the
actual doing of, is the hermaphroditic parent of hesitation.
suddenly, what seemed so clear on impulse

holds the fogged over mystery of Everest's pool table peak.

roll the dice

sometimes, there are more options than a gambler's either/or
but here i am, an absolutist in denial of romanticism.
so, could somebody please just
give us all a goddamn direction?

the wind shifts multiply at varying degrees to the poles
and time runs forward but somehow our minds manage to see three directions of it.
if i could live two lives at once i think i would, if only to avoid the what-ifs.
so tell me, where exactly on the scale of ambivalence does compromise lie?
because my . . . own . . . questions . . . are eating me alive.
and i'm in the middle of an intersection where every eighteen-wheeler has a yellow light,
but i'm hitchhiking and my legs are spread, revealing my heart
so apparently, there is a road toward existence and there are hundreds toward living
and therein lies the choice.
easy for those who don't know passion
but you see, i know passion; maybe too well for my own good
and i don't like those who don't.
but the thing about passion
is its function is intimate and daring, and i've never known fear like this before.

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