The Line of Thinking

THE LINE OF THINKING

The line of thinking runs 

that given time enough—the funds—

we might yet get in front of this. 

That one day honey just does the list,

and lo, the fixer-upper’s up and fixed, 

the lawn at last trimmed low

and all the laundry done, so give 

it but a week or so and we'll at last begin to live

the life we always imagined as something more

than a growing list of pending repairs. 

Of course, all this will come to pass

only after the ballots are cast,

the offices swept and emptied out 

for our officials, who will, no doubt, 

enact our will and set right the deluded

line of thinking we’ve too long been governed by.

Then once the baby sleeps through the night—

or say instead the baby graduates

and vacates the house—that will be our ticket

to kick up our feet the way we've dreamed about

and somehow come to expect, when we’ll rest

as deep and long as Orion in repose,

belt unclipped and bow leaned back

in that ever-elusive posture of "relaxed."

So the line of thinking goes,

stringing our hopes like dominoes

or beads slid down an unbuckled bracelet,

until one morning something shifts

and you wake with a shudder, light

slipping through the shutters to illuminate the dust

in the air as you realize this is it, 

that the line of thinking was always bent

until it clicked into a circle,

and—wouldn’t you know it—we’re in the middle. 

My point is, feel around: there’s no way out 

of this. Best start looking up or digging down.