Too much insecurity to bear;
blizzard reminder; happiness
mere temporary phenomenon;
all is going downhill;
open-jawed tiger
awaits at base.
Too much irrelevant verbiage;
teacher droned above my head,
while gazing longingly outside
thinking of girl just met in library,
until well aimed duster hit me;
“Dreaming won’t help you, boy”.
Too much to hope for;
needed reality to puncture
spring’s balloon; how dare
I imagine that I should receive
purple, white, yellow crocuses
from a small child’s hand?
Too much risk straying from self’s bounds;
shall I accept neighbor’s help shovelling?
Who knows what obligations might arise,
impelling me to consider another,
jeopardizing outlay of my resources,
since we must hoard in scarcity’s universe.
Too dangerous to make that connection;
will you converse with stranger on train?
Better to claim corner seat, read thick book;
don’t gaze at anyone; only
mad, strange, eccentric,
make eye contact.
Too wasteful to sit and pause,
stare out of school window,
take flowers from child’s hand,
accept neighbor’s helping suggestion,
talk to stranger on train;
you just might light imagination.
© Phil Kemp 2026
