a slider mini-burger —
it’s that nothing is so fine
than holy nonsense.
it comes after meaning and pain and ardor and strength.
a silly wallowing
in a small, private playground,
glassed-in, all sides,
a zoo like i want to be in –
a zoo like i know i was born in –
a zoo like i dreamed a dream in …
and then i’m out.
contoured in live thunder and
the bilge of a stream current.
people leave me out of things
simply because it is proper to do so.
i am too wild for cultured ritual,
too restless for polite conversation.
my own people are at dive bars, they are not hipsters
or helping professionsals or professors-
more like: embezzlers, drunkards, thieves, on their off-hours.
roofers, dealers, cold retired dreamers, off-hours.
just good stories.
and i listen to rain videos as it soothes me
and combine life into a caustic collage
that dares to hit truth dead center because
i am the fool in the deck, a joker, loner
and i know the difference between a lifeline
and a sycophant.
it all goes back to the first brown house,
as a child
of early, rural 1980s.
it is a joy.
i am given over.
it’s more important than anything
as it is the very fuel i move with.