You Surpers

why listen to a blind man

talk of the brightness of the day.

is it that you cannot see

or that you refuse to look.

I always thought you

were there to protect me.

But I was wrong.

and then I thought, what is it that needs protecting?

who will allow me to be a savage

or a sloth

and ensure justice among men.

who will stop the usurpers

and the deciders of choice who lurk, lazily,

litigating liturgical lifeblood

lackadaisical liberty lovers

lustfully leveling licentious lessons

limp little looters

leftover lepers

but lo

there is only and forever


and yet again what can this kind


that is more powerful than we

perhaps the question is

not what do they have

but why do we care?

Because life is so big

it’s so big

and I do not wish to be chained

one bit

not one bit

I do not want fences

I do not want rope

no matter how soft

or comfortable

I do not want anything made for me

that I do not ask for

I do not want to strategize to avoid


or to be beset by force

I will take care of myself

and in that care I will define my own


as it is meant to be defined

oh what we have given up

oh the choices we have made

narrower and narrower

like the vortex of the tornado

we distill our generalizations

to the point of a pin

and then begin

but by that time

there is no room to move

nor breathe

except in our delusion

and fantasy

and so our mind expands

like the jowls of a slovenly man

feasting on the comfort of death

and our body withers


while fortitude festers

and falls away

replaced by a screaming

pinwheeling madness

as the knife’s cut releases

what once was us

and we bleed out



and choking

only still lifting our hands

to feed ourselves.

What is there to protect?

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