risk is getting off food stamps
before you can afford to buy your own food.
risk is going to the bank with your business plan
coil bound in your hands
risk is projections you tried your best to stay confident and conservative
around, whose world breathes inside tomorrow, so who knows?
risk is putting down the deposit on the office space
before you get the loan
risk is talking in court when you want to be reticent and thoughtful
yet every spoken word helps, every forgotten word
something you kick yourself for not saying aloud, later, smoking in the car.
risk is trying new types of work, all the time, when what you wanted was a boss,
a lanyard, a mentor, a health insurance policy someone else plotted,
none of which you got.
risk is writing a poem, when you are trying to brand yourself,
heart on your French cuff, alive and awake,
despite the cost.
risk is taking that case you give too much of a damn about, can’t lose,
because even you will be numb,
adrenaline seeping out through your heels
under the Plaintiff’s table.
risk is going to be worth the feeling of fighting the stony wind
at every doorway. You pray it’s so.