There is so much energy in the crutch
between util- and futil-ity when
hope dissipates into look-but-don't-touch
showiness for the sake of attention:
Tragicomic, really, in our modern
sense of the term, which has very little
to do with kings and queens and the pattern
of ingrained failure in royal mettle:
But this ain't about great men with hubris;
It's a matter of ordinary life
stretching too far for love, and to prove this,
I'll offer my own failure in relief:
While I fail because of fear, I know love
lies most snug in the hand, never the glove.
urbansonnets 