I keep me
in a drawer:
saved for
special occasions
when I can't be
spared the
indignity
of proving,
by some
bureaucratic
standard
that I exist.
–
For the sake of argument,
assume you are lying
to yourself with the
best of intentions and with
the worst possible
outcome.
–
Often I'm told
I'm wrong but
to be fair
after so many
years believing
it's a hard lie
to let go.
–
After “The Arsonist's Lullaby”
There is no keeping your demon
on a leash – but you should
on the regular, give it a hug.
–
So
me
ti
me
s
I
for
get
what the
co
lor
or
an
ge
ta
ste
s
li
ke.
–
The best form of flattery
None of this interests me. The scrambling. The Fear. Sometimes, for the sake of others, I talk myself into anxieties. I learned this trick when I was very young and mistook it for compassion. The mistake people make is assuming that deeply emotional people are naturally compassionate. This wasn't the case for me. My emotions rang out so loud that other people's were drowned out. It's like being born without skin, but being asked to hug everyone so they feel better. Every touch feels like 3rd degree sunburns.
It took me decades to figure out that nearly everyone else is a mimic, too. They just don't always know it.
Mockingbirds sing
and everywhere
people look for sparrows.
–
Down by the cleansing waters (after Oppenheimer)
No one is baptized only once.
Every day we dip into the water
diving to avoid
the unanswering currents.
–
After Brodsky –
People act as if
burning governors
in effigy's a new
thing. Politics
has never been
civilized, no
matter what
Ms. Sue tried
teaching us
in Social Studies.
Tools for tyrants
never fear history
because they never
learned it
in the first place.
The thing about them
(tyrants) is you
never know how
successful they
will be until after
the fact when we've
misplaced all the bodies.
–
Memorial Day (After America Died)
All of this has happened before.
I've done the social media outrage.
Sort of feels like masturbation
with 40 grit sandpaper. Sometimes
I envy people's ability to just get angry,
like I sometimes envy people's ability
to drink just one cocktail. How in the hell
do they DO that? Because I can't
have just one shot of bourbon and I can't
just lose my temper and let it splooge
like so much flotsam on the internet
with so much satisfaction. I'll just
keep writing poetry and assume
the fascists are en route.