What’s it like, I wonder
For people to naturally like you?
Without any effort?
To have a personality with mass that warps the social fabric
Inexorably pulling in all within reach
I, for one, will never know.

At 18
I was once called a pseudointellectual
Reflecting now, it’s true
Reading poetry publicly to shape a persona, dropped when others weren’t around
How lame
At 29
I pick up Bukowski again
Surprisingly enjoyable, but
Unable to trust my true intent
Hide the cover while reading at work
Subverting possible subconscious manipulation

Sunday at 1pm
In perfect synchrony with the rest of the United States
I will
Sit down to receive my
Re-education through television:
The prophecy of Huxley’s New World,
L’Engle’s Camazotz,
Realized.

Cultured from the same petri dish of indifference that provided the
Comfortable Wall
Of willful ignorance for Bergen-Belsen’s neighbors,
The nation tunes in to another weekend of football and half-truths.
I lead the charge.

Greyson fell asleep on my shoulder
I think a lot of street drugs
Are used
By people who are unwittingly
Pursuing the neurochemical response
Gained by a father with his relaxed 4 month