Want to become an animal
but don’t want to spend a lot of money

Want to armor my back and thighs
like a dragon might be so armored
but do it on a budget
and not permanently

Want to sing in the morning
and charm somebody’s pants right off
like some warbler or finch (I can’t name birds
on sight but I like the sound of those names)
but I can’t afford the singing lessons
and I’m not made for flight

Instead of being a man
who has to take everything so seriously
ravenous yet considerate of all consequences
to the seventh generation
careful of feelings today

Want instead to be an animal
but gently, as if
animal were a costume
to be put on and off
Release my familiar
to the end of its leash
and no farther

Being a man is so antique

anything worth doing can be set on fire

there are entire scenic drives that might be improved / with a match

that looks like a bridge / burn it
it might be a sand castle / burn it / how? / use plenty of fuel
it might be fireproof / burn it / mock it until it kindles
it might be invincible / flatter it / see it burn from within

say, is that narrative / or lyric /  surreal / photoreal / protest / pratfall / love?

if it will burn / it is all of those / and it will burn
see the edges already curling?

for the burn / you should swallow a candle
for the burn / you may thread sparklers in your eyebrows

for the burn / fall into the firepit as the licking heat strains for you
why make it so hard to be consumed?

burn it and yourself
ash is a truth / all things end

immortality is relative to the height of the fire / to the strength of the fire / to the sturdiness of the fuel

1.
Rocked back on my heels
by the impact
of a dark wet morning
full of challenging songs
and knotted thoughts:

do I remember
how to use the word
“contentment”
in a sentence?

The only thing I’m sure of
is that it has nothing in common with
“swagger.”  Swagger’s
how you get by
when you aren’t sure,

and I’m sure.

2.
During World War II,
there was a fad among US Army junior officers
for the carrying of swagger sticks:
short batons tucked under the arm
as a symbol of power and command.  Lieutenants
and captains competed with them;
they were elaborate, carved from ebony,
chased in gold and silver…

A general saw this trend
and issued the following order:

“Regarding the use of swagger sticks:
if you need one,
carry one.”

They disappeared overnight.

3.
I step into the rain
with a bowed head
and a slow walk.
My knee’s offering
a forecast for the day:
you’re not going to get
where you’re going
as fast as you want,
but you’ll get there.

How the rain always falls
is straight down.  Falls
from on high and ends up
soaking away into the ground,

where it will do its best work.

I don’t need to swagger
and curve my steps
to the swaying of my ego.

Swagger’s for the uncertain.
I’m

not.