i know you stink of corruption
i know you couldn’t help but lie
i know all your phrases are borrowed
i know you are all those things and more
but what is that feeling when the sun is bright
and all seems well with the world?
what is that goofy smile beneath the outrage?
i know you are
but what am i?
an accident at birth?
an angel in an alleyway
am i friend or foe?
or maybe even both?
i know and i fear the truth
but still have times when my joy
overflows for absolute no reason
and i am happy with no evidence
to support my smile
i know you are
but what am i?
what happens when we live
in a constant state of screw up?
a constant flow of corruption?
lives bought and sold
for a microsecond advantage?
makes a person want to throw their hands
in the air
or else hide far far away
in a nice little cave
with no wifi
no connections of any kind
beside a clear crystal sream
just myself and a few friends
word on the street say wha??!
mixed up party favor shakes
long lines for all those patty cakes
an’ those jinx filled jokers with red noses
say wha!! who turn out the lights?
who take out the trash and
who gonna pay the bills?
wipe that expression done off your face
where ya’ gonna be when it all grow dark?
gonna be gone?
over that rainbow without so much as a song?
each morning as i sit here
before the same blank screen
i can hear the children playing
screaming out with the joy
of just being here
and i wonder what stifles my own joy
why aren’t i crying out with glee?
unable to restrain myself?
instead i remain cool, calm, and reasonably collected
writing poems which will be read by
other would-be overflowing founts of ecstasy
who instead stay steady, perhaps grimly,
upon their course
waiting for that next vacation
i need a partner to find my way
i need a partner with whom i can play
i don’t want a partner that puts
glue on my shoe
i want a partner that does what she do
i want a partner that will tell me
straight to my face
how much i’m loved and needed
someone they can believe in
i need a partner
cause in this world
singles aren’t allowed in
some days, like these days
i feel like a dinosaur
and not one of those quick ones
running in packs
i feel like a brontosaurus
weighing many many tons
taking many years to form one coherent thought
leading a very slow life
do i really have to get up out of bed?
do i really have to move my legs?
is it any wonder
how guys like me became extinct?
numbers don’t really exist
or maybe they do but
when scientists say that numbers
are all there is
it kind of makes me cringe
i depend on numbers
but i don’t really like them
numbers bore me
i’d rather just eye ball it
and take it in stride
as far as i’m concerned
numbers aren’t needed
i can get along without them
and while we’re at it
let’s get along without the scientists too
to tie my shoes
to give up singing
ready to take the money
ready to have some fun
i’m set and on the mark
let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!
to feel your grip
around my castanets
ready for darkness
ready for light
ready to regain my sight
lead me, take me
i want to feel your caress
you can show me the money
so much money
buildings so tall they touch the sun
and you can show me the guns
so many guns
big bad guns are so much fun
however, as much as i can empathize
with your boyish brags
i must confess
i am not impressed
i had hoped for something more
like a hail and hearty laugh
and a healthy handshake
letting me know that you’re a lot like me
just putting one foot in front of the other
no point in getting my panties in a bunch
over imaginary slights
exaggerated blows to an over inflated pride
but i guess having a point
isn’t the point
there is no point to being insane
just a chaotic descent
tearing me limb from limb
imaginary burdens are the worst kind of baggage
no one can lighten a load that was never there
to begin with
all i can do is allow myself to disappear
into the perfection of the moment
sitting still without opinion or comment
and be, in that moment