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The Spring

They say, it was expected.They say, it happens at least once a year. You didn’t even know you’re to suspect it. You just went outside, and it was there. Some secret promise floating in the air, A spring, a move, a shift. The snow has left, has left the feelings bare, And whatcha gonna do about it?

You are reminded of those wildlife programmes, The tales of nature and narrator’s voice. And secretly you do envy the condors: It doesn’t take them life to make a choice. Those deer too, they have it so much better. They’re obvious about what they need. But we seem to enjoy our tangled matter. Hm. Whatcha gonna do about it?

We play this game where no one’s really winning, And yet, each loss is there for real. And half the time you’re trying to decipher meaning The other one is trying to conceal. And don’t start me on writers: The bastards further overcomplicate this shit. You’re never gonna find the right words. Well, whatcha gonna do about it?

You dress your best. You go out. The sky is much too blue; the sun is much too bright; Them stupid birds are singing much too loud. How could you ever look good in this light? Oh boy, you’re such a gone case, And all because the nature is in heat. Again, it’s up to you. As always. So. Whatcha gonna do about it?

— Katariina Kottonen (May 4th, 2009)