a life of nonsense
unspeakable gibberish
indecent incident
unpleasant surprise
I don’t always think about it
but the habit
of tuning out
is that what it’s about
no it started with hiding
(en)during the fighting
broken pitcher
as a weapon
squirt gun
as a heartless threat
the stain on the kitchen wall
the name calling
tune it out
any anger or resentment
gives way to sadness
at their suffering
was it for me,
the years of loneliness together?
it wasn’t about me
but this poem is
tuning out
came in handy
every cliche
the hot tub
the party games
I thought I knew the rules
they changed
without warning
and I couldn’t complain
everyone watching
they knew who to blame
I went along with it
I went along with a lot of things
I wanted to be liked
I wanted attention
I had low self-esteem
isn’t that the narrative
not the narrative that I was just
horny and probably a little manic
and hadn’t yet developed standards
that’s the narrative I chose
it made sense
I stopped wanting attention
Not wanting
Tuning out
it came in handy
it got in the way
Why did i stay?
Why did they stay?
just a small bruise
a smashed up sculpture
Chicago police cruiser
with the window kicked out
the saxophonist who didn’t sleep for weeks
rat bites and German spas
shaved heads and tattoos
and museum after museum
a life of nonsense
there is no sense to be made
so why rain on the parade?
who doesn’t love a parade?
strike up the band
send in the clowns
show me where the float is
I will climb aboard, dance naked
don’t tell me that’s psychosis
the only rational reaction
to this life of nonsense
is finding hope in strange places
and strange people
strangeness is hope
hope is nonsense
nonsense is truth
and the truth is
there’s no reason
for any of us to be here
but here we are
choose whatever narrative you want
it will always never hold together