Thursday, March 01, 2012


I Mean It

The urgent violence that is honesty
calls me out of a long nap, like a
cat smashed between a row of books
and a wall.  If one describes oneself as
charming?  And then ducks back into a
hut, pencils I’m so frightened of losing?

I used to be sober when I was serious.
The mental capacity to stomach en-

That was wild.  Slowly I take each
book out of the bag, stack them on
the table, become a person who wants to
hide his true self.

Nothing is the right way.  Just a smile
to enjoy.  The delight of a mustache
over a drink of cool water.  Shopping
for groceries (frightened of losing).

It’s a shame, this grasping of my red
interior.  Nobody’s mouth to put a
finger on (to shush).  What’s a list for,

I appreciate a residential neighborhood
I can call my own.  The ironic beauty of
certain vandalisms.  A capacity for with-
holding evidence.  The smell of a
freshly mown lawn.

It was a narrow escape.  We clutch our
hearts.  Enjoy the walk.  Enjoy the ride.