anyone nuts enough
to have read the reams of crap
making up this poetry
must have rightly grasped
that i’m fucking awful
at dealing with this emotion
it will soon be
time for a full confession
of my inadequacies
but before then i hope
i can put into play
a strategy for a potential solution
of course it’s wrong–rounded
to seek a solution
without knowing the problem
but i know the mountains
and i see one of the difficult passes
but i haven’t catalogued
all the subspecies of goats and grass
the conversations held between the clouds
the way the wind likes to piss on the water
i do though i really do
need to address the failures in the geography
that landed me these weeks of species–ridden insanity
i’ve said i need to address my sexuality activity
i’ve said i need to fix the tombstones
i’ve said i cannot stand outside the world
because the world comes visiting
even when i hope it will otherwise
and causes me this species–ridden insanity
and the visitors are those
who don’t bloody listen
the selfish are maximal injurers
well sod the bastards
i’m twisting this damned emotion about
and going hunting myself
and sod the millions of negative replies
i’ll collect like dust on sticking honey
it’s fucking daft
but to have to chance of giving some caring
i have to be uncaring to dance
my insanity is jazz in the punjab