The Syllabus of Disappointments

 

Optimism appeared from behind a great cedar

 

with a sparkle in her eye —

 

clad in a regency gown and a feathered toque 

 

arm-in-arm 

 

we walked across the lawn in the half-light

 

devising stratagems  

 

dispatching abstract battalions to their appointed engagements 

 

weaving dreams from the ovule of ambition

 

 

sipping champagne 

 

fermented from the necrotoxins of confidence  

 

*

 

Expectancy wore a mask

 

of delicate spider-silk with blackwork embroidery

 

 

dancing her duet with the undetermined

 

she exhibited a graceful poise 

 

pulling a trail of prismatic light behind her

 

that filled the long gallery with electricity

 

 

cracking open a pomegranate

 

she offered me its sweet gelatinous flesh —

 

teeming with centipedes and beetles 

 

*

 

Boldness was a seraph 

 

that had crashed through the skylight

 

of an abandoned factory

 

its wings dislocated by the traumatic injuries of irreleto vancy

 

its golden nerves perforated by the crossbows of indifference

 

 

squatting low against a brick wall

 

with begrimed fingers 

 

it studied its crushed tongue curiously

 

averting eye contact

 

*

 

Perseverance was a destrier

 

her long black mane in dishevelled braids 

 

her hooves caked with wet turf and mud 

 

this panting charger

 

that had carried me so far

 

cantered to a halt in the middle of a clearing 

 

 

snorting and stomping — 

 

her hot breath steamed in the damp air

 

her heart drummed like a pericardial grenade

 

ready to explode 

 

 

upon the surface of the silence we held together 

 

in hushed respite 

 

and then moved forward 

 

navigating the convoluted labyrinth of potential

 

*

 

Hope was perhaps the most magnificent of all

 

she came to me in the morning 

 

softly

 

with enticements to rouse and face the new-coming day

 

 

drawing back the curtains she turned to me and smiled

 

and in those bewildering eyes I saw 

 

so many aspirations epilogued in forfeiture

 

so many outcomes devoid of promise

 

 

how was I to trust this impotent fairy 

 

so proteinic and yet so poisonous —

 

whose voice was often no more than a faint murmur

 

from a tree — a breeze— a song

 

 

reading my rumination with a sly grin

 

she hovered in close to my cheek 

 

and whispered…

 

“keep listening!”