What Remains

Using a sonnet to decide what to do

You cannot have a doomsday cult unless you keep predicting doomsday. It’s required. In truth, it bums me out, I must confess, to realize these arcane truths are hardwired. I like to rise and have a shot of tea. I like to putter, read the cards and dance. Ego-tripping cosmic catastrophe prevents me from giving the day a chance. Yes, the personal is political — a feminist cliche, but oh, so true. I am outraged, but I ain’t critical. Life is woven by what we always do. A bang, a whimper or a lover’s kiss, sun in your hair, I believe in this.

If you liked my poem, “What Remains,” please check out my poem, “Kisses to Unmute Your Heart.” Check out my other Medium sonnets here. You can sign up for emails whenever I publish here, Or get a subscription to Medium that shares some of your membership $ with me, here.