Normalcy, OH
Well, well, well— whaddya know,
Here I am, friendly suburban man,
Fairly normal after all.
Middle aged with a mortgage,
A wife and kids, a good job
I don’t hate
And a little money set aside
For special occasions.
Who would have thought it?
Yes, there are a few skeletons in the closet.
Yes, I am a jackass.
Yes, I deserve much less.
But here I am, indistinguishable
From any other moron wandering
Aisles of hardware stores
Looking for a certain size of nail.
I almost blend right in—
Lizard king alien wrapped in human skin.
I didn’t think I could actually pull it off.
Had envisioned something much different—
One of those guys who misses everything
Everyone else usually takes for granted.
A series of passive observances
Of milestone celebrations featuring people
No longer really part of my life.
Not that I would make it awkward,
Standing there stupidly in the cold,
Gawking from the other side of the window.
No, I’d bring the charm, for the most part,
Like a clever heckler in the front row
Of a pro basketball game whose banter,
Despite its initial subversive appeal,
Loses its allure by the end of the night.
Yes, what you see right here
Was always in doubt.
A sad and lonesome future,
I’m sorry to say, filled the alternative itinerary —
First, a period of uneasy disillusionment
Followed by short bursts of recklessness
That led to a series of family
Estrangements and broken friendships
Mistakenly recorded as wins
I imagined scales falling from my eyes
Restoring an original version of vision
Where everything appears filthy and rotten
Even love began to reek of the spoil
And it seemed fair to just not give a damn
About anything at all which opened up on a long stretch
Of sullen self-exile where
Small universes of resentment
Cropped up to fill the empty spaces
Once crowded with the entanglements of other people.
After that, your options are fairly limited.
Best case scenario you sublimate
This anger and frustration into
Disciplined endurances of pointless
Exertion and aimless confabulation.
More likely, live out the rest
Of your days as a bitter contrarian—
Forget what’s funny
Say something rude at Dad’s funeral
Catch god in another
Obvious contradiction
Prove the buddha wrong
By asserting the necessity
Of your own existence
Commit to working out
Commit to a healthier diet
Commit to a good night’s sleep
Alas, none of it helps
Kill the time better than
A period of honest self-reflection
Which ushers in the final movement—
A series of abandoned novels!
Thousands of failed poems!
A whole moral philosophy that collapses
Upon the slightest brush
With any human intimacy.
The whispers begin
To get louder and louder
And then we say them together—
So much talent and untapped potential!
Should have been a doctor!
Got married! A father!
Wasted his life!
Tragic suicide!
Took the easy way out!
I hate to admit but part of me
Misses that poor man
I just dodged becoming.
He was so me—
A richly deserved destiny
Hovering on the edges of distinct possibility.
After all, this world is small and mean,
Everyone dressed up, rictal grins,
Oblivious of catastrophes
To come, enjoying themselves
A little too much at Thursday
Night garden parties
With a bunch of dolts they don’t even like.
Think of top hats and parasols. Do you have one?
I have an extra behind the trellis.
Let me tell you a secret
About a dream I’ve been having
Nearly every day of my life
It's a dream within another dream
Which functions as subtext
To the larger, more encompassing dream
Which, for some reason, includes you,
Right now, in tonight’s version.
In this dream, I’m not a total sell out,
Haven't turned my back entirely
On the self-flagellating loner
I thought I was born to play.
Though I seem to be a conventional
American mediocrity, a worker bee
Hauling his meager gatherings
Back to the hive to share,
I conceal the truth under
Thin veneers of respectability—
I’m a weirdo like everyone else
A hermit who can’t bear to be alone
Damned, but for love
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