Virtues of a Poet
By: Katie M. Moss
April 28, 2010
Fate is like the wallflower sitting next to me at the cafeteria table.
She sighs, she mumbles, but she doesn't affect her surroundings.
She's there, without really being there.
Love is the same way.
It's what I feel when I sit on the park bench next to the dumpster, next to the bus stop.
It involves a lot of waiting in a period of time that smells like waste.
Hope, don't make me laugh.
I killed it this morning in my garden. It took awhile, but the spade won in the end.
It's all crusted with dirt and worm intestines now. Thanks a lot, hope.
I don't have enough to finish this line.
Charity. I'm supposed to clothe my neighbor,
but I'd rather go shopping. Hope that clears things up.
Faith. Because trusting in ourselves isn't hard enough.
The only human I have faith in is my dog.
And he's Canis lupis familiaris.
I wish I had a cat.
I wish this list were longer, but that's enough of that.