03-16-2011, 11:00 AM
in the background they’re always laughing.
whenever he belches, or swears,
or misses a line and rambles,
waves of macho hooting roll
over the microphone, drowning the wasted hermit.
he recovers and continues, unfazed,
though it must annoy him, these dickheads
who come to see a poet crumble,
use naughty language and drink,
like children poking the homeless with sticks,
then running away when they stir beneath
their bundle of sodden cardboard.
“death”, “piss and shit”, “old times” and “law”
reduced to third-rate comic bits.
sometimes they laugh when something’s funny.
mostly they think it’s hilarious when
he pauses to swig from his beer.
'what a rebel!', 'how rad!', etcetera.
ah well. he only did it for the drink anyway.
we survive how we can.
indignation is a rich man's pursuit,
and finally for those left alive.
whenever he belches, or swears,
or misses a line and rambles,
waves of macho hooting roll
over the microphone, drowning the wasted hermit.
he recovers and continues, unfazed,
though it must annoy him, these dickheads
who come to see a poet crumble,
use naughty language and drink,
like children poking the homeless with sticks,
then running away when they stir beneath
their bundle of sodden cardboard.
“death”, “piss and shit”, “old times” and “law”
reduced to third-rate comic bits.
sometimes they laugh when something’s funny.
mostly they think it’s hilarious when
he pauses to swig from his beer.
'what a rebel!', 'how rad!', etcetera.
ah well. he only did it for the drink anyway.
we survive how we can.
indignation is a rich man's pursuit,
and finally for those left alive.
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe