Day 18: On Platitudes

I get it. It helps some days.

It helps to glance through Instagram

to find that chick whose profile pic

is her off in a field somewhere,

the sunbeams shining halos round her head.

You find a meme that tells you what

you think you need to hear;

1000 pixels square, max 10-word therapy.

You focus on your chakras

and then move on with your day

a little stronger:

You can handle this.

The day moves.

I get it. It helps some days.

But what about the days that do not move,

when time keeps stacking higher on your head?

When you’re the beaten beggar

too exhausted or ashamed to turn your eyes

out of the gutter,

and someone walking by without a glance

throws some cheap hope

-- forgotten pennies –

in your cup …

it’s not enough to buy another coffee.

Go and tell the hopeless to “choose happy”

when what they want and do not want stand face to face in mirrors

and yes and no are lovers, coupling everywhere.

Go and tell the grieving “just let go”

when each new trill of birdsong drives them wet-eyed to the graveyard.

Try to tell me nothing is “im-possible”

when lying is unlivable but truth points sharp at someone else’s throat.

Inspiration offered blindly lands just like a club.

Use it carefully.

Watch for the beggars.