I’ve had to do a lot of thinking lately about the extent to which my assholery is a real problem

Coffee spills on my shirt

And I steal God from his high and mighty chair

To put him in writing

And tie him to the pages of this shitty book

I reach and tear down totems

To pin them to my shirt

Like a boy scout

Sometimes I would rather drink alone

Not because of who you are

But because it tastes better

In a quiet room

I’ll see you when

I can be certain it will be

Better than being alone

When I know I won’t be

Tearing off the pins on my shirt

Just to come up with something to say

I don’t want to watch you do that either

I occasionally get what I want

From people

I am very aware that

You all

Have feelings—

Extremely so

I am aware when I compromise them as well

But on occasion

I choose not to care

For just a moment to

Relish the drink, the quiet dog in my lap,

The ink in my pen, th lonely street lights,

The smoke, the quieter companions

Maybe it’s lame to enjoy

Stillness

But when the world stops moving

My thoughts don’t have to be so loud

To scream over the sound of traffic

And kazoo music, the psychotic shrieks,

And hot breath, biting snakes

And television host speak

Pleasure may be a vice to you

It is holy to me to

Enjoy

the sweet candy treat

The prize

Is important

I will sacrifice to enjoy

Though it is rarely cheap

As I grow older maybe

I will learn to be more frugal

With my spending

But part of me hopes

I will never be too reasonable.