Resolutions - Jason

Resolve

The ritual feels like the labor of Sisyphus
Undone by gravity and the smooth edges of the rock
But worse, somehow more fatiguing
Like green pastures which refuse to feed.
It is a child’s untamed rainbow.

Our talk crossed the dirty dining room table
Of electric hope on painted memories and not granite goals.
We celebrated the ink filled calendar not the crisp unwritten
And our bodies washed in the foam or our combined mirth.
I remember the shows so bad
we couldn’t help but watch
Like falling into the shattered glass
Which captures the red and blue flashing lights.

So we played along
Eat less
Exercise more
Save money
If just for a moment we would pretend
The new would also mean better

The table is still dirty.
The calendar is now filled.
That threshold is once again is before me.

I’ll show them.
I’ll laugh at the ritual.
I will resolve.