I am a spare,
waiting to replace what is with what
– after an unpredictable event –
will become.
Thus, I am a leader without direction,
without commitment,
without conviction, in doubt,
currently useless, but, perhaps,
someone that one day will be essential.
We are the Existential Guard,
a reserve force (akin to the National Guard)
lying in wait when the professionals,
the experts and the useful folks,
fall in a surprise attack.
This is where poetry comes from.
From waiting in time as if eternal.
From directionless continuing.
From mediocrity in relation to the present
and random excellence in relation to the future.