What We Doubt

We're not so sure about the new
math or the mythical new-world
order. Some order would be nice,
we must admit, but then so would
a common sense of decency and
victory for those of good will. Be
nice, that is. We doubt, much
to everyone's chagrin, the existence
of an omnipotent designer/creator.
We don't so much doubt it as
know it to be a myth made for the
lonely. We have grave reservations
about the ethics and efficacy of
that myth. Though, certainly,
we consider ourselves squarely
aligned with members of that
group. The lonely, that is. We
find it hard to believe some folks
aren't lonely, or so they say. And
wouldn't that just make true love
useless? To not be lonely, that is.
We've come up totally empty
as far as uncovering any evidence
of purpose here. Of course, some
purposes are clear, that of our
five digits, that of procreation,
that of stupidity. But what of
the grander purposes at work?
What of destiny and fate and
self-actualization? We don't really
buy all that self-help crap, but still,
actualization is an idea which has
always enticed us. We reckon
the word doesn't actually mean
much--actualization, that is--
we just like the way it sounds.
In many ways, we like the sound
of doubt, the sound of our hearts
pounding with uncertainty as we
force ourselves to speak to some
woman we've longed for, the sound
of a room that isn't sure if it should
revel in solitude or rail against
the incessant, solitary nature of
the passing days. We seriously
question whether or not anyone
will ever wail deeply enough
to wake us, eloquently enough
to move us to some action,
plainly enough to disarm us
entirely. We doubt we'll ever
be able to walk through the world
without armor. But we pray for
the day.

(2007)