the potential that people
see in me
is the potential
I’ll never be,
like golden rotten teeth,
society setting the bar
with dominating voices
for higher purposes
and the television
had me
chasing city dreams
on the outside,
they want me to be
all skyscrapers,
monumental
and charismatic
but on the inside,
I feel like a conflagration
of condemned buildings
collapsing to the streets
they given me
the grass
and they given me
the graves
but none of it matters
because it’s what
I decide to plant
in the ground
the people I once adored
are the people I no longer
want to be surrounded
by anymore
half the world is trying
to sell you ****
you don’t need
and the other half
is just disinterested,
yet, they feel compelled
to preach about their
new found discoveries
with the best intentions
like blue herons
swimming upstream,
again the current
I refuse to acknowledge
the aggregation of judgment
from the principals of
prosperity, honesty and integrity
and be measured by levels of
excellence and quality
as I lower my expectations
with beer cans that
lounge like lizards
aloft my bulbous beer-belly
like buoys in the ocean,
encrusted with a layer
of mustard stained
tattered torn t-shirts,
dust on my boots,
mud on my jeans,
hair messy and knotted
absentminded to the
disease ridden impurities
and set forth into the night
with delicacy
to look up at the stars
shining so bright
and enjoy myself
because when you have
no home to live in or
roof over your head
it’s kind of hard,
not to
we are all animals,
dull creatures in the
kingdom of fire,
preoccupied with perfection
and dizzy with the
unnecessary difficulties
that standardized civilization
has bestowed upon us
humanity is the worst thing
to happen to humanity