I want to ask Him how he’s doing. 
I really, really want to.
To make some little conversation out of nothing.
To see if maybe…
To feel a little…

But.
But Experience is in my ear again–
That chatty, old curmudgeon.
Experience says, 
“Your question will just be ignored.”

And, Wisdom: Well!
Wisdom is in the corner, 
sipping a robust red.
Wisdom chimes in,
“Listen to Experience.
Experience has been where you are.”

So, here I am,
Waiting for Hope.
Hope is stubborn.
Hope wears white after Labor Day.
Hope swears they once saw Burt Reynolds
At an IHOP.
Hope defies Experience.
Hope challenges Wisdom.
Hope says,
“Maybe this time will be different.”

Sure, Hope is mostly wrong.
But Hope is undeterred.  
Hope believes in possibilities.
Hope isn’t always the friend you need.
Still,
It’s nice to catch up sometimes.

Meanwhile…
That bastard, Irony, is on the train,
And that fucker’s ready with the jokes.

And this is how a poem changes tone
When we learn
that his new girlfriend, 
Is named
‘Hope.’