I have always had one foot out the door,
and it’s not for wanting to go places
because, most places I might go
are the same
like grocery stores.
Still, I don’t want to be as arrogant as to say, “I’ve already done it!”
when I haven’t.
It seems that my actions conform or confirm my reality.
My friends don’t like each other
My literary idols have wild sex while celebrating life with wine.
They live on a force of power within themselves.
My real friends don’t like that I admire drunkenness, but it’s not drunkenness
I don’t even drink! And I don’t have any desire to.
What I admire is someone so connected to what makes them alive
that they can walk into gas chambers
across fires of hell
sit in meetings, where insecure egos
glut themselves on their own admiration
while controlling people like pawns
And my hero still stays untouched
by the world that grabs at him
like an addiction
looking for one more hit of inspiration
to satiate their black holes.
He has a smile that betrays his spirit
He doesn’t strive for a position
but he is more ambitious than any political office.
Maybe, my craziness comes out on paper
and I remain a “good boy” who dresses conservatively
and says the right things
but every once and a while
I let out a slip, “I hate people.” Even though it’s more complicated than that
and the world judges me like a sledgehammer
“You can’t say negative things in public, like that!”
And my resentment is like a dormant volcano
waiting to erupt with truth.
Allowing myself to be weighted-down by friends
or to have no friends
Knowing that the people, you don’t know
aren’t much better
Most of them have a plan and an agenda
If you find someone who doesn’t want to change you
they will—and only these types will
it’s the most seductive thing,
reaching off the page
to let you know
you’re not alone.