This is how I feel...the real deal
I feel pain, and anguish
I feel ecstatic, and sympa-empathatic
I can split hairs, but can't grow any new ones
I have visions, lucid dreams
I can't see the TV set, but I know what is on, even though it is off
I can't find any real friends on this planet, but I have a good credit score
I don't have regrets, I have videotapes of the learning experiences
I don't get out much
Hold your enemies close, and your dog closer
I have a treasured collection of martial arts in the closet, collecting dust
I periodically search beneath the sofa cushions for artifacts
I can't hold a thought for very long, but I once held a job for fourteen years that I hated
I ride my motorcycle at break neck speeds....often...and with abandon
Supposedly I have cancer, it will kill me one day I'm told, I figure some things are not worth knowing at all
Slip up one time on this tightrope and you fall
Some things rhyme, and are thought to be poetic
Some poems are not so much thoughts as velvet Elvis paintings
God lives in a trailer park and shops at Wal-mart
And this is art?
Fuck
The world has changed so much it seems
9/11
Terrorists
Cell phones
SUVs
I figure this is a beta test for something that matters
Maybe not in this world
Maybe not in any world
But somewhere in between the acts of spontaneous creation
where "reality" theories and myth combine
People spout a lot of fine talk about world peace
and call the cops when the neighbor's stereo is too loud
We wouldn't know peace if it hit us over the head
Lock and load
It's a jungle out there
Keep your powder dry, along with your sense of humor
You may need both some day, like yesterday for example
I guess a good poem has to have an ending
The bad ones just seem to go on, and on, and on
A bad poem can leave you feeling good
a good one can leave you feeling bad
so which is better?
better is whatever works
better won't always pay the bills
maybe we need fewer bills and more "better"
fewer "pros" and more rank amateurs
less distance and more travel
go somewhere for no reason at all
and don't tell *anyone*
If they ask, lie, tell them you went to get a haircut
if they point out that your hair is still the same length
tell them it grew back
Think about a covered wagon crossing a desert
think about leaving your house without your fucking cellphone
there is no right or wrong to it
it was just a thought... |
