All I want

is a summer room filled with sunlight fire

To feel so good

like an aborigine

taking off all his clothes

walking back into the bush


to climbing out of

city sewers.

It feels good

to stop looking at street signs

and read the signs.

Some crazy notion

in my head

tells me, it’s never going to be easy.

I have wanted my life to be

like the aborigine

To find something strange


than what’s ugly.

There are too many ugly faces

and not enough masks

or maybe, there are too many masks

that don’t smile the way they should.

Most people will make themselves anonymous

pursuing that fake smile

that is never happy.

The man who laughs

and does it

again, and again

has found joy, like the aborigine

in those nights that flame with fire.

I don’t want to be anything else.

A story-teller, yes

A lover of the impossible


those nights

that open me up

and smile.

3 thoughts on “The Smiling Man

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