The answer to this
question is
yes or no.
That’s three words.
Everyone assumes
the yes is most important,
the positive-affirmative
of yes, I’ll be happy to help ;
yes, let’s call it a date ;
she said yes when I asked her
to marry me ;
that no is ripe
with negative connotations,
its signs of no right turn on
red ; no exit ;
no, I’m already going to the
prom which you never forgot.
No one gives any credence
to the or, though it’s simmering
on the stove of
possibilities,
the middle door you
take when making a deal,
supposedly vacant
of worth,
but flexible enough
you’re never trapped.
Or ascends
the current of the
late-day breeze,
coming from the west
and then the east,
the north when it is
humid, the south
with its winter respite
from the ice, thawing
your dithered brain
like a Bunsen burner.
I learned from Conjunction Junction
(what’s your function?),
an earworm from ’73,
despite my knowing
a schoolhouse
never rocks,
unless it’s filled with stones
from the Moon
or Mars,
that if given the freedom of
choice I’d take the Moon,
looking down on Earth
while all the people made
decisions—
who is saved
and who is not,
who is loved
and who is not,
that when it comes
to war and peace,
we inserted the wrong
connector ;
that or would have laid the
cards out on the table :
a Queen of hearts ;
a King of clubs ;
and a Joker always laughing
while you sweat.
Andreas Gripp
November 23, 2024
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