what the devil in me may care...

'The Knight Errand'
by John Everett Millais, 1870

what the devil in me may care

this poem is strictly written 
in terms of where am I 

(secretion cell 
hive mind)


may I aspire, 
higher bones, 
flesh and intentions...


to be or not to be 
a unique or 
patterned individual...


anything but myself sometimes... 

--------------------------------------

I really love playing my childhood over and over
in traveling parlor tricks 
role gaming around 
all the names I have for 
fermented grapes and grains...

I distill my insides 
pretending there must be 
a reason order is in disorder...

I build fantasies 
into dogma cities 
on rivers, I then hen weight 
guilt, reflexing my way 
through intellectual idolatry...

the continents and countries 
on my walls all have 
legion-ed allegiants being parts 
and whole(s) 
of successive 
time(s) recorded 
in waves, I draw 
maps to understand 
where I might be...

I say I want to stop, no start, 
no stop start again stop plead insanity 
I mean not to be so destructive 
propping up my id and ego 
like weeds popping up on the roadside 
lock-stepping silhouettes 
of birth and reach in dead starlight... 

my pockets are full of mouths
my windows are rolled down
my holes are wholly interested 
in what I used to be 
not where I am going to be
my need is 
my holy interest 
in what I see...

you 
willing 
to bleed 
sweetly 
for me...


EJR ©