Just a note to subscribers to “Dark Matter” that I will likely not be posting a lot of poems in the near future due to a variety of circumstances. I promise to return as soon as possible. Know that I am trying to remedy the situation as quickly as I can.
Thanks in advance for your understanding.
Today,
in and out,
around and around — chasing
the American chase. Chasing
The Story Of
Us.
Listening to
how we are, how we
got here, how we
got to
today.
Learning from this
why I put my teeth
together
and hum/holler
scream/grind
every time
We congratulate Us on
doing good,
even when I know it’s good
being done:
it’s because I know
there’s always a catch
and a pool of blood
somewhere
that no one ever
cleans up.
I have one of those faces
that is stuck on repeat —
goatee, jowls, stubble, longish
wild grey and white hair.
Millions of people look like me, enough
that I’m a stereotype of crazy —
artist, counterfeiter, etc.
I’m not exctly dark skinned but
I’m not pale enough for some
to not take me for a suspect ethnicity
when my repeater face
shows up. It’s kind of
a hard face to carry.
So, you know,
the fact that someone
loves this face
is hard, sometimes,
to believe,
although when she does
it breaks open
the smile usually hidden
in my facial hair
and when that happens,
I guess I look at last
like myself.
Dark Matter 