...Options...

I suppose there comes a time 

when you're sitting there 

looking at what's offered, 

knowing you have to pick 

the cheapest thing on the menu. 

 

It's not a matter of what you'd like. 

It's not a matter of "Gee,

what would taste good right now?" 

When it comes to making 

your selection from the menu, 

it's not the contents that 

your eyes are allowed to scan. 

 

No. Your options 

are there on the far right 

where the price list is located. 

 

Starting at the top, your eyes 

sweep to the bottom, 

in search of a price that matches 

the assorted change in your pocket. 

 

You come to ignore values 

that obviously equate to 

coffee or orange juice, 

for what are those 

but luxury add-ons? 

 

No. 

Value can be summed up to 

just what on the menu matches 

the weight in your pocket and yet 

still fills that cavity inside your gut. 

 

When pockets spill forth empty, 

what truly amounts to luxury 

in a life condemned ascetic? 

Is it solitude? 

Absolute obliterating solitude? 

Can there be any more than this?

 

No. There are other options. 

With cavity half empty/half full, 

you make your way to the exit, 

where a wintry embrace awaits you. 

Out there, solitude equals death. 

A penultimate option of which 

you may not be ready yet. 

 

There at the end of the block 

sits the Open Door Mission. 

Here within, you will again find options. 

Options that come with prices. 

Prices that have nothing to do 

with the weight in your pocket 

but rather, the weight of your soul. 

 

There at the Mission there are 

luxuries and essentials. 

For you, the main essential is warmth. 

The luxury to have the stillness of 

one lone area where you can 

lie down upon a cot and pretend 

you and your half-empty cavity 

   are still you. 

Your spiritual deposit... paid in full. 

Yes, the check's in the mail, 

though the balance of

your faith account 

may just bounce. 

 

Until then, there remain options. 

One, the chilly walk 

from this exit door to

that one in the distance, 

and in that interim solitude, 

you can only hope that

you won’t be distracted 

by all the exit options 

beckoning 

along the way. 

 

Ó04 Jack David Hubbell