Tonight's Poet Corner: But What Do I Know?

But What Do I Know?
by Belinda Roddie

I believe that the gold you catch
in your hands can melt as quickly as
snow. That your heart is only in

the right place when it's kept firmly
beneath the resolve of your ribs. That
we should hold off on making decisions
while the heat still cooks behind our eyes.

This place is full of angry shadows. They
lurk in the corners and scowl over cold
highballs. They spit and hiss like wounded
cats after a spat in the backyard. And they
think with their fists,
and their already bruised
knuckles.

I cannot convince the world that if you
cling to the dream of wealth, it is nothing
but foam on a raging ocean's upper lip.
That adding a check mark next to a demagogue's
name only causes the drums to beat louder
on the battlefield. That the best bet taken

is when we've taken a deep breath, pondered
all the options, and drifted into the glassy ether
of hardened, transparent common sense.