On the grind to squeeze swollen feet into black polished shoes

Workin 4 the man

quittin time when grease splatter spotless and each nook and cranny rubs knuckles raw

little black vest peeled off at evening in a hunch back with bones a aching

overtime required snapping off the heads one by one

workin 4 the man

25 cent raise when no talk back keeps that evaluation stellar, plus twenty minutes to sit down with no deductions.

cash money paid in full on a house for upper crust dreams made possible, being sure to lock up at night.

Two days off a week, one for sleep and the other to get that stain out of the uniform top.

lucky to have it whistle tunes soundtrack in the head to keep that chin up.

Practical absurd you dare not complain about giving pride to just another day

Working 4 the man

good enough with no reference from another human being.

Artist to be free to fly into a box that measures proportions by publications and university credits.

The matte on the picture must be black or white

::colors seem to bold.

Unsophisticated to the nearest package hanging, judged on the library walls.

Good enough

right brain talent setting a new bar. Stainless steel or a light charcoal to fit in at the swap a doo network of higher minds.

Depth of field and perspective

wild:: just right to gather executive to a gala celebration

Plenty of gasp for air and tell it like it is.

Application deadline and righteous nomination for honoring all

that commonplace won’t address properly..and makes for great copy.

Good enough poet with vision

lose lip spreading finger paint into ilford keeping just enough emulsion to please the panel.

Glossy paper submerged to reveal the structure

Like magic in the dark:: gaining enough solitude long before

Display it…like this

With black matte or white cuz

Colors are too bold.

A lady interrupted

Spotted emotions

Heart on the sleeves

Shoulder to cry on

Caring to much about putting on a jacket and getting those teeth brushed.

Boy Interupted

Emotions under the surface

a solid rock of ideas

Arms to wrap in

Working to hard to make sure the heat is on and the bills are paid.

Gender says walk on eggshells for hysterical lady; made furious left in the dark.

Gender says don’t push stubborn boy; made angry put on the spot.

Lady interrupted

Mistrust and dis-respect to be able to handle all the truth.

Boy Interupted

Mistrust and disrespect to be seen as innocent.

Different world sitting in the same conflict.

Lady interrupted must be hysterical while boy has to be stubborn until the field gets leveled

And the blooms come up

Welcoming again the innocence of nothing

Interrupted

I trust the weirdos

the ones not trying to look cool or suave or shaking their swagger at the club

The ones with the Tom Cruise looks and Mel Gibson stature

probably part of a cult or twisted frame of mind that had to buckle under the pressure.

I’m into the strange, awkward disheveled people who are brave enough to bare their souls and trip over every curb with just enough grace to laugh it off without anyone the wiser.

I used to think that the hard body and acoustic guitar would put me into the entourage that my brother made mandatory and my father would give a nod…

but as age settles in and witnessing the alcohol, coke and arrogance taking over a bitter soul,

I find my less than pristine attributes make for an easier life, and less to fear.

I trust the weirdos

the ones who stand alone and crack up at the sound of their own bad habits without the need to play it down.

the ones who don’t shave their legs or freak out at a new wrinkle after a night not slept.

In bed by 9 and tipsy after three, maybe four beers makes for an interesting life in my book.

I’ll pass over the shots of whatever new cosmic concoction invented and pop song on the radio.

I used to think that all would pass me by if I didn’t wear the right thing or have friday night plans made by tuesday, but that shit gets tired and so do I by 9:15.

As long as I have a good man by my side and a cocktail without a catchy name, I’m good, even if my young proteges think me boring.

Leave the trendy to the young and I can impress them better with my recollection of the new album that just dropped on Spotify or iTunes or whatever digital device these kids are into now a-days.

I honor the weirdo.

The ones my sister would never approve of and my mama rolls her eyes at, doing their work and paving their way.

I am that weirdo….

….. and finally time has let me admit it, honor it and embrace it so as to let go of trying to be less awkward in the face of those cool dudes, younger than I…

with so much left to learn..

the cool ones that roll their eyes at me.

I trust the weirdos.