I Wait

I wait.
In the meantime,
I put on nice clothes.
Never forget to iron them.

I wait.
In the meantime,
I keep working on
the walls the rain undid.

I wait.
In the meantime,
I weigh the odds
so I get my haircut in time.

I wait.
In the meantime,
I wonder, mildly,
if any of this makes sense.

I wait.
In the meantime,
the world, unbothered,
goes on without me.

I wait.
In the meantime,
I come to a decision:
I won’t wait anymore.

I wait no longer.
The jury reaches its verdict.
The aggressor is in prison.
I’m uncomfortably safe.

Someone up there,
bored of so much subtlety,
had no better idea than to send
her into the scene.

Do I wait?
Or do I not wait?

And… I wait.
In the meantime,
I think of small blue reptiles.
Optimism, uninvited,
drains my soul
left and right.

I wait.
And I wait.
And, again, I despair.

The moment came.
I raise my eyes.
My heart pumps
like there is no tomorrow.

The teacher, announcing
the grades, declares:
“No goodbyes today.
Sorry to make you all wait.”