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.