Tag Archives: the answer

The Answer

Maybe love isn’t the answer
after all
to the question of happiness
which was never part of the plan
when the cells
that would become us
were dividing into our ancestors
who never knew how easy
life would be in the future
with sharp tools and wheels
and gods
we are no longer required
to believe in or praise
for giving us a desire for love
that many of us will never find
so it seems like a good idea
to bury our hearts
in a mass grave dug
with a mass-produced shovel
and seek unconditional devotion
in the divine and perfect form
of cat or dog.










The Answer

When I was a younger
version of myself
attending poetry readings
in the afterhours bosom
of the bookstore—
made of amber lit rows
of perforated shelves—
I sought the faces
which looked most
unreadable and wise
and wondered
if there would ever be a time
when I wouldn’t feel curious
about the one single face
I would single out
each time I walked into a room
or walked up to the glowing mic
on stage.
And now that I have the answer,
which was always, to her,
an ambiguous yes,
I wish I could tell her
to just enjoy it—
her inexhaustible hunger—
because she didn’t know then
that it would last forever,
or that it could—
that the answer was no.
That desire would never
stop, abate or cool—
even though she’d already chosen
her favorite poem.


DeMaris Gaunt