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I am a singular event Occupying a particular span of time. I am a concrete mystic And an incurable skeptic Seeking an approximation Of peace and domestic tranquility. I am a Slavic soul brother Living the American dream. I am a low rent raconteur who exhibits Full frontal irony. I know the moral of the story. I have committed several acts of conscience. I am not above suspicion. I am often in league with the resistance. I am a symbol of defiance. I am a rebel without applause. I am a working socialist. I am a solitary voice, But I can hear the drone of the collective And I always keep a lock on the cellar door. I am a theoretical technician And a student of scripture. I am a practicing agnostic. I have traced the golden thread To its unraveled conclusion. I am not a slave to fashion. I have walked on the wild side. I have spent many nights in transit. I am a collector of thimbles full of tears. I keep most of my scar tissue Tastefully under wrap. I have dreams of many colors. I can hear music, sweet, sweet music. I dance to the beat of a gypsy drummer. I have had several grooving violations. I have been well deep underground. I am a man of letters specializing in silent vowels. I can maintain a stressed inflection For extended periods of time. I have endured odious rites of passage And often embrace a sad refrain. I am routinely calibrated To a fine degree of tolerance. I have earned the nth degree; My master’s thesis was a pork barrel project. I know the lay of the land. I can put a thing in its place And then skillfully rearrange the closet. I am an irregular fixture in certain small venues Where I cultivate awkward moments of silence With the local inhabitants. I am a stranger’s face in a family portrait; An unrecognized shadow Darkening a somber state of affairs. I have witnessed the changing of the light bulb At the tomb of the unknown critic. I have heard the sound Of one hand clapping A tree falling in the forest With the other shoe. I am a phantom of the theater. I am waiting in the wings. I know who’s on first. I have learned to play ball. I am a reformed safe cracker and base stealer. I am not good at keeping score. I never trust bad reviews. I once left town in a hurry And though I took a fork in the road, I let the dish run away with the spoon. I have spied the moon over the bayou With the levee yet unforsaken; It moved me to a consequence. I have volunteered. I have the hands of a skilled black market surgeon Practicing in a dirty third world clinic. I have the patience of a famine. I am not what you’d expect. I am a fisherman’s friend. I believe the carrot is the stick. I have made many first attempts At second chances. I have ten saving graces And a glory halleluiah, With a statistical margin of error. I am an expert novice who knows from experience. I prefer being the off-center of attention. I have taken sweet, side-long glances At objects of my desire. Though I am known for being anonymous, I would reveal my name for a price. I am the hardest worker in the shop. I am some kind of wonderful, Looking for long term romantic bliss. I am not easily impressed, But can be pleasantly surprised. Let me know if you’re interested.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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