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.