The Lone Weirdo
I can’t love her mind
yet admire the way she shoves it at people
like a battering ram;
always the victim with a golden hatchet.
She thinks I’m a misguided monster –
aren’t we all?
He wants to cancel me
his mother buys nacho chips
by the cart-load
so he never has to leave the basement
he loves like his personal space-pod.
The family, church going man
thinks I’m a weirdo,
and I am his pastor!
"Why don’t you love America?"
I do.
"Why don’t you love what America does?"
Love don’t work that way,
what we allow America to do, that's on us.
"Why don’t you love my lone-again
walk through this strange world?"
I’m with you buddy, but
then again,
you are a lone weirdness
just like the rest of us.
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