In June 2013 I made fun
of you because your beard
was scraggly and patchy, but
you smirked and told me to
wait until your birthday,
because by then it would
be there. Well, your birthday
has come and gone and I anticipate
your pictures on instagram waiting for
that cold to strike me down, but you really
do have a beard now.

i've grown tired of my words
because they sound so much
like me.

they apologized
to clear their
conscience
not because
they were sorry.

don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.

be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain

who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.

juggling mates
and
attitudes

their
confusion is
constant

and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.

beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."

and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God

for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.

don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone

for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.

I am a dog walking
backwards

I am a broken
banjo

I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio

I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.

put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.