on why I left you in such an awful fashion

because i need to be pushed but cradled at the same time.
because you made me afraid --- afraid to listen to myself, afraid to figure out who i am on my own.
you made me think i had to be XX, XX, XX.
so XX, XX, XX, i set my head on
and ignored my gut
and threw out my heart.

determined, yes i am, but in my own way.
motivated, of course, but i move at a slower pace.
i take it in, i breathe in deeply, and i watch
people's faces as they pass, and i memorize
expressions and impressions and each second i thank
the gods that i am here, and i
try to taste all the flavors, and that includes not just milk and honey, but
a) happiness, and b) sadness,
madness, gladness,
tiredness, and hopeless, impressed and distressed,
and every single color of every last (even the very last) brother,
and how we treat and (don't treat) one another

and i put them
into words so i can always remember. and i don't think
life is all about running.
running can cool the jets, running can make you forget...
running distracts you from the heaviness.
but i thank the lord for the heavy, i gladly carry
the heavy golden color of the sun and the heavier shadow
of everything it doesn't touch on my
ivory shoulders.

i live for the smell of books
and the rumination on memory
and the wondering why
and the contemplation of the blessing, and
how it shines in all of us, dark and bright, obvious and not. and
i mull it around on my tongue.
it tastes finer than
your finest manhattan wine.

i toast my own wine to you -- my wine of life. here it is.
enjoy your piles of money, stack them up as high as you can,
but they will never reach god.
down here where the people hum and sing, "hallelujah,"
in a unison
that shakes my skeleton
i have found a human divinity.

there was a fly on the wall
there was whiskey in the glass
there was an ant in the dirt
there was dirt in the ant
there was dirt in my eye
there was an ant in dirt in my eye in dirt
there was love in the dirt, loss and
tears (made of dirt) in the dirt.