Hope is how you get people to wait.
Hope makes the heart sick, I think it says
 
in the good book. So I will not do it.
I will not believe. I will not hang on.
 
            I will read, though. Damn your obsession
            with functioning, with productivity.
 
                        (Just make us actual machines already –
why so compulsive about programming empathy?)
 
            As if reading is not itself work.
            Damn this feeling of uselessness when I do not “work.”
 
I will not believe anymore
that the world is an oyster
 
                        (mine, at least. Maybe some straight
                        white, rich man’s).
 
Its agitation has yet to produce pearls
I wouldn’t through before pigs.
 
            Damn your work-your-way-up ladder.
            Damn your gotta-start-somewhere ranking of human beings.
           
Pearls are never for pigs.
(Does it matter we don’t actually know who they’re for?)
 
It’s hope deferred makes the heart sick.
Eve misquoted holy words, too,
 
            and the whole world dropped
            into pearl-less turmoil.
 
                        (Defer: put off, postpone.
So, not even reschedule.)
 
I will not defer. I do not preach instant gratification.
I preach, damn            (toxic)   optimism.
 
I will not believe we can make America great again.
I will not wait for pearls.

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In addition to blogging at http://mnicolerwildhood.com, m.nicole.r.wildhood's work has appeared in The Atlantic, The Atticus Review, and elsewhere. Her chapbook, Long Division, is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press. She currently writes for Seattle's street newspaper Real Change and is at work on a novel, and several poetry volumes, including one in Spanish.