When I Lament

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

When I lament and say to myself,
“You’re nothing but a great big
old Aaron Belz-shaped disappointment,”
the thought often follows,
“Well at least you’re Aaron Belz-shaped.”
And now that I’m 46 I can add:
“At least you’re a disappointment.”
Can I imagine being a huge success,
juggling those plates till doomsday,
feeding the machine of others-opinions
the way a woman waters dying plants
each day in a South Bronx apartment
not knowing that, oh, for instance,
this building will be demolished next year
and most of its once-hopeful tenants
will move back to their home towns
and become surgeons, store clerks,
boxers, talk show co-producers,
small-issue agitants and academics
or at least adjuncts. She doesn’t know,
she keeps watering, and this, I’m saying,
is how I was as a people-pleaser.
When I lament and say to myself,
“Boy, you better smile and get to it,”
I know that it’s okay to ward
off laziness with a little pep talk.
Can’t we just all do our jobs and
stop whining about our circumstances?

• • •
 

One Response to “When I Lament”

  1. Edward Nudelman Says:

    Big like!

    Sent from my iPhone


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