Now Zibethicus commands a horde,
Ondatran menace striking up discord
As raveners with citrus, growing bored,
Look for some new distraction from their pain.
Even so, they dance in the long train
That Stupid God still leads, without refrain,
And in which the Stupid God does still delight,
Stumbling through each day into each night
And back again. The everlasting plight
Afflicts us all, both those who do not dance
And those who after Stupid God will prance
And, ass-like, bray upon the merest chance.
That which those donkeys pull behind, abjure,
Along with Stupid God and all its spoor.

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As the small snare drum sounds a tight roll again
Tiny xylophone or glockenspiel accompanying it
My hand reaches out to add a single percussive beat
And do a little better than John Cage
Though I have never been able to do the splits
And my sunglasses are kept in the car

There is never enough time to take the time
And I really ought not to interrupt the performance
Making it stop and start again is no good thing for the gigging
It is better for me if I simply leave off spectation
Having other things to do in plenty
And my own practice to which to attend

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Today is not the day
Of course
There’s another coming
And even if it were the day
So much would be true

It isn’t for all
Of course
Because some are at their ends
Today and every day
But there are yet others
Who will
And must
Go on

Retrospection is in season
Of course
Little endings prompting looking back
And thoughts of how to do better moving forward
But most of us will simply
Go on as we have been
Regretting doing so a little
Until we forget that we were doing that
Again

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Sitting with cups of coffee ready to hand
While the birds have barely begun their chorus
And other creatures stalk near-silent
Through the lifting darkness
I read
I write
Neither as much as I might like
Both as much smiling as remains in me

I am a thief
And prodigal
Taking more such moments for me than is likely my due
Spending them frivolously and to no good end
But I have asked no inheritance
Even if I might have to herd swine
And I am the elder brother, anyway

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The break was good
With lots of food
And friendly company
But there’s a price
It won’t be nice
To pay, I expect to see

The work goes on
When I will don
My holiday attire
And piles rise
Before my eyes
Atop my desk yet higher

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I imagine they thought they were being helpful
Those programmers
Putting in the new features that
Suggest ideas from which to write
Because writer’s block is a thing
And it does beset all of us who
Fix words in order
Sometimes

But
And there is always a but
And there is almost always a butt
And sometimes it is what voices the
Things you hear
I wonder who they think
Those programmers
Their target audience is
Who they think will use this platform
And to what end
Who will be different from them
Because we all know
We
All
Know
That the only worthwhile knowledges are
How to code
And
How to get their money
And
Anyone who does anything else
Really can’t be that smart

All this is to say
Having a spur is useful
But sometimes
You’re not riding a horse

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The old adage holds
One bad apple
Spoils the bunch
And we are told again and again
That we ought to listen to the wisdom of those who came before
Who know more
Who didn’t grow up with social media
And so they know the score

But when we apply the lessons
We continue to be held to blame
Told that they’re not all the same
That it’s a falsely made lack of fame
And if they had done what they were told to start with
There would never have been a problem

What was that man doing
So
Very
Wrong
That the cop
Should
Have carried around
A shit sandwich–
Diarrhea on rye, maybe
Or mashed corn-studded turds on whole wheat
Because getting roughage matters
And fiber is important to a healthy diet–
And fed it to him when
His trembling outstretched hands pleaded for mercy?

It had to be something
Right?
Because he had to know what he was doing
He had to know there was something done that deserved
Punishment
Without charge or trial

But it was just a joke
Right?
It was just
A boy being a boy
Or some such thing
No harm done
Not really
It’s not like he did it to
Anyone who matters

Clearly.
Because he’s still wearing a badge
Even if it has
Something smeared on it
Just a little, there

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