Against the Odds

By: David Lerner

Photography: Harold Feinstein

it's impossible
that we keep breathing
with all the years
pressing on our chest

it's impossible
that we keep walking
given the condition
of the heart's terrain

it's impossible 
that laughter continues to spill
from the cracks in our sorrow

that anger continues to be
a kind of faith

that the small graces
coffee, clean socks, the stillness of night

still sustain us
sometimes

it's impossible
how we break on our dreams
and then dream them again

how amidst the thousand small terrors
of daily life
it is possible to be kind

how as the ax falls
and nooses swing
we go on checking the TV Guide for decent movies
accepting some phone calls, dodging others

doing battle with the rent and the weather and
the holes in our shoes and 
the distance between us

there is something inside me that says
yes
there is no way out
you have to play this terrible guitar
until the strings break
or your fingers

but the music I know
in the moments between
the panic I hold more intimately than
any lover

it's impossible
how much sorrow
a smile can hold

---

You can find David Lerner’s published works at Zeitgeist Press.

“Lerner was a broken-down saint if there ever was one. He was an eloquent screamer, a soft-spoken rageoholic, a madman with a great manuscript. His poetry will always be a reminder of a time when poetry in the Mission was spontaneous, magical, and more than a little bit dangerous.” — Bucky Sinister, San Francisco Bay Guardian

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