Friday, December 30, 2016

and the eternal question

I can't tell you what to do with your life
it's sometimes a matter of zigzag
you try something
you can't do it
you do something else
there is no shame
in the lack of
straight lines
although people will look at you funny
as if you were different
but you aren't different
you are like everyone else
for really
most people
in their inside selves
are a pantry of odd leftover pasts

the zigzag can become permanent
if you have a short attention span
and won't stick to something
that is routine and commonplace
it's hard to avoid the pleasures of novelty
and learning new things
you can stay in school for years
just to get the drug of new information
to dull the curiosity desire
it's a way out of the guarantee of death
at the end of the time you have
most of us don't stay in school forever
we leave the womb of novelty
and get jobs
become citizens of worth
that sort of stuff

we can't live on air
and words
nor can we spit out broken teeth
and lie on the pavement
so a golden place to run towards
home
is useful to have
a home is more than a nest
for fledglings
but also a retreat
from the screaming outside the door
the hostile takeover of the civilised

by the barbarians
who would feed human beings to pigs
I suppose
this is just another way of looking at the world
I should not be snotty about it
I should accept different perspectives of murder

this is just the way the world is
and the home is where you hide
from the killing fields of other people's minds
their torches held high to show them the corpses
that lie around them


I wish for a poem now 
to sanitise the deliberate creation of psychopaths
in my head
so many of them
if they aren't psychopaths they are simply delusional
seeking the riches of a day's work
instead of the gold of the sun flooding the land with wet light

but then I chose the zigzag
others chose the straight line
we don't meet often
our perspectives are so far apart
we might be on different pages of a book
separated by blank chapters
but when we do meet 
there is puzzlement
and the eternal question
what do you do all day?
I tell them I sit in a room and watch the sun
peel bananas of light and leave them on the bowl of night




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