glass 1/2 empty

i'm at the point where 1/2 empty
is dreaming. i look at glasses & i see
clusters of frog eggs. i see their little souls 
full of legs & i wonder if they will live full 
& happy lives or if someone will come along 
& swallow them down. it will not be me. i am too busy 
feeding cheerios to my imagination, saying, "only a few more
years of living like this." the cardboard world
asks me all the questions i can't answer like
"who?" & "how?" the secret is there will
only be one or two frogs. the rest will remain commas.
truly though, the glass is not 1/2 empty, it's just empty.