oh baby,
shave my back,
dot the i’s,
cross the t’s,
stand up straight
to call me to
the dinner table,
gimmee a pigfoot
and glass of
suspicious liquid,
swim against
the tides
to discover the
time of day and
where the sunlight shafts
land as they
burn through the clouds
and spotlight the
pies sitting in kitchen windows,
just don’t tell
me what to do,
just don’t leave me here
with no way to
make a decision
about socks and shoes
and ironing boards,
just don’t get bored
with my complaints
about religion
and nodding your head
and walking around town
with a smudge of ash
on your fore head,
but most of all
take a vacation
from all this commotion,
the tongues of the
gargling choir
make their noises
as useless as
smoke detectors
that chirp when
the batteries are used up,
their armor is rusty,
they dance to
the beat of
baseball cards
rattling against
bicycle spokes,
they tell
that you’re too slow
or that you arrived too soon
and they curse your name
if you die
at an inconvenient time,
some people
brag of their malaise,
too many are not happy
unless something is burning,
something breaks,
something stops working,
something reeks
in the back of the pantry,
take a vacation
from all
that attention,
no one needs
to be treated
like a vending machine
or a pay phone,
i mean,
if i could
leave myself
behind
right now, i would
and return
again after
finding myself
in the wilds of America
talking to
wonderfully unknown people
doing things
with their lives
that may lack
any kind of
discernable
direction
but seem to have purpose
that is yet to be
discovered, just around the bend,
on the other side of the mountain.
around the corner,
around
the block, the other side of the mountain.
.
Ted Burke
.