I must have been
such an asshole in a past life
Call this
morning, “Did you send us your resume?”
A former
employer, the one that audited the fraud empire
No, not the
publically traded one, the nonprofit one
With the left
wing political scandal instead of the right
Me, “No my aunt
must have sent it based on a contact.”
Old secretary
lady, who is apparently in charge of human resources
“So, are you
interested in coming in for an interview?”
Me, “No”, Her,
“If, you change your mind let us know.”
Know, know, I
know you pay shit, treat humans like cattle in a CAFO lot
And have no
problem concealing federal crimes for a pay day
The evidence is
overwhelming the mocking caws of crows
Want to return to
your New Orleans
Come back for the
monsters of your past
Let them have
another turn, the zombies of the present need rotation
Rural, urban,
loneliness, the perversion of a semblance of hope
Cackle cough
neutron bombs with a one liver blast radius
Drown in bourbon
that retread choice would bring you
No one else is
listening only plump divorcees
Too tall or too
fat, breasts hanging out with self discipline
Buried like a dog
bone, generating the confidence of a rock
Kicked from the
skirt of a tire soccer-style to the buffer zone of an interstate
Stranded amongst
grass blades and beer cans,
Half-smoked
cigarettes and drive-through lane straw-wrapper flotsam
Misfits and
polka-dot painted bed rooms in a house that will not sell
The dog grooming
van was too tall, I am sorry sir but it was too fucking tall
And that day that
you laughed about how it was all too easy
Working out,
coming together, did it blow up into maggot confetti
Because of the
pessimism or pragmatic realism? Which?
If it keeps
happening like a record is it resigned contemplation or
A fear of hoping
rebounding like a railroad spike impaling a cranium like a piton
Slammed through a
mountain skull fifty-thousand feet high
As if one more
iteration elevates the climber a meaningful measure of progression
As if each hammer
thrust is an increment of upward
There is a
summit, recognition of what was an inevitable and necessary climb
The valley on the
opposing descent is joyous like overcoming the fear of a sky dive
That others
reverse into joy in what it means to let go control to chance
To hope to
rallying in the ninth inning and swinging for the fences
To know that
beyond all historical context of logic, there was an opportunity offered
And the
counterparty was eager to listen beyond the gutter population
Of scavenger
types, haggard brain-eaters, munching with dilated pupils
Zoning in on my
dreams like ripe apples of blood drunk through vampire straws
Siphoning fuel
from a renegade gas tank with the gall to conduct respiration
Like a living
sack of flesh oozing a yearning to gaze back into the sun
With middle
finger up daring the world to try to make him blind
This skin will
not sizzle, this speech will not stutter
These hands will
not quiver into resignation, until ever bubble of air
In these veins
reaches the pump house and topples the levees
Or so I tell
myself when I am feeling brave
Because that
phone call was the first glass bottle to float upon this island in years
The confidence to
dismiss it like another grain of sand is not a given
Ink blurs and
towns shuffle, what I know, what I knew, what I could do
I am afraid
myself of the damage
The ship wrecks offshore
under the water’s undulating surface
I know they are
there, cackling in a cacophony of retribution
In voices of what
I must have done to the ghosts of yesteryears
I must have been
such an asshole in a past life
Comical
explanations of free will and nature and merry go round
Because I do not
want to be here and I do not want to be there
I want to have a
purpose of this world and to matter to a beautiful soul
I can find a
mutual and re-feeding reciprocation of joy
None different
and some how I suspect it will never be
I am meant to
live this existence alone in perpetuity
Knowing what I am
capable of, knowing I do not have the right
To ask God for a
damn thing, ever again
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