Something about a drink and an old memory

seriously quithink at Drink's mercy.
I'm sewed into my shirt and crashing in some random
part of town.
This is I;
the burden on god.

least, how he has /become/
onto these people.

Here have I come
to observe.

Though here have I been
grossly involved.

Here I've come to miss last summer.
I already feel like I've left behind
my youth.

I miss that Wilderness: a feeling just
what I haven't let myself know:
a longing of sorts.

I miss that reckless behavior
--back when I was living it
it wasn't fit for conversation.


Have a made a fool of myself?

JUST.
It was the last tattoo.



...



I have been living here for three months
and can't remember such anxiety.

My blood has curdled and my joints drained stiff.

There is Mary, the old woman, scolding me
at my every effort. I do not read her book,
though I've sewed her clothes and taken
her empty plates to the sink.

She has taught me bitter. What happened?

There is the girl, small and wild.
She will surpass me in fearlessness
and I will smile as I watch her Go.

I couldn't trade my trashy soul for any
innocent, attractive child.

Can you imagine that evil old men
were once helpless children?

This morning I awoke to her-still
-helplessness crawling into bed with me.
Sleep some more, child. It's too early.

This is the way I'll get over my rage,
by being the best caregiver
I could be. Arms wide!

This is THE WAY that I will be:
I told you I have left my home
for it was only where I was born.

I have gone on my way, and,
honestly
I will not know a single truthful home
until I have birthed in the place of my own design.

I want
the companionship of every kind
of person
on the spectrum.

I want those who are unkind, too.

Among the demons I am a Saint
though among the holy saints
I am Everything wrong with the world: Now,
I can go anywhere.

And I choose never to forfeit a question.
I choose never to forfeit a mind.

One day I will forfeit my body
and drift onto a place
more natural than home.