If that’s all there is, my friend,
then let’s keep dancing….
Optimism and hope; my mind can’t complete the thought.
Is there such a thing as an optimism that is not naive?
Last night, Theo and I went down to Le Voyeur for
two-dollar beers and conversation. We talked about
existentialism (of course), Sisyphus, art, and relationships.
We talked about optimism too; that it is naive, but necessary.
For an existentialist, optimism is simply finding the way
to enjoy the experience; and a projection of the enjoyment
of future experiences (which is where it gets a bit absurd).
Really, I can only subscribe to optimism by analyzing
the flipside. Despair is cold, heartless, and dead.
Optimism may be silly, but at least it lives.
Anyway, I’ve worn myself out on the topic.
Not that I got anywhere with it.
–
If my sources are correct, tonight there will be
both swing-dancing and poetry-reading.
No one should have to suffer through such choices.
And they are, essentially, at the same time.
Still, they aren’t far apart, geographically,
so perhaps I’ll try and at least stop in at both.
Switch between cutting a rug and cutting a rhyme,
without batting an eyelash.
Swing word-schemes like a jitterbug;
if that’s all there is, my friend,
then let’s cut a rug.