Even Madness Is Not An Option Poem by elysabeth faslund

Unequivocable yes's, are equivocable no's
of unsatisfactory decisions, made in too-
hasty moments under the judgements of
the worlds navigated through...ours.

Who said we could be free?

Ingredients in the soup of the day,
make for compliment or derision...
but, should we taste once more,
just to be sure of decisiveness?

Who picked the five-leaf clover?

Morning to night, and back again,
revolving light/dark doors never closed,
circling as doves, eagles, vultures
of a sky we never chose, but accept.

Who frosted the windows on Forever?

The human condition, magnificently human,
destined for extinction, unraveling like
Aunt Agatha's shell-stitch shawl, in degrees
of self-doubt. Desperation held within.

Who told you not to tell the Truth?