Conclusion
all the right and wrong ways
to live life, battling always
in the desert expanse of my better judgment.
each answer a dark secret,
every answer the wrong one,
all the answers coming from people afraid
to die.
everything buried under a false importance
everything so sure of itself.
freedom from motive is the only freedom
and people kill in desperate countries and
eat in the dining room and show signs
of progress, wrinkles, babies
looking out the bar's window I try to see
what everyone is looking for
and cars are going somewhere
where other cars already are
and some leaves litter the pavement's indifference.
somebody just tried to tell me who works here. No,
the people who work in a bar are the customers.
the mystery is no more;
reality with teeth bared, open-legged women.
the only thing that awaits is something hiding
in the bushes, I am waiting for everything
around me to get up and walk away, a
collapsible dream, portable circumstances.
My shoe size tells me nothing.
I'm afraid there may be nothing to fear.
My feet keep bringing me to the same conclusion.
Famous people have done good or bad things
and here I look out at people who will not be
noticed. They see me but I will not have them
see me. I only want to shave all their dull
beards with a sharp fish.
I am ultimately sorry,
but that remains to be seen.
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