we all share the moon but are still drawn to our rooms (a poem)

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we all share the moon but are still drawn to our rooms


i like reading historical markers.
i find standing near "you are here" maps

to be oddly reassuring & metaphysically satisfying.
quite often i find myself in a state of spiritual &

emotional bankruptcy. i mine this discomfort
for poetry & laughs. I have vowed to always

keep it simple & direct. if i ever make an oblique
reference to a mythological character in a poem -

please kill me. i firmly believe that whoever
remains childlike the longest, wins. In 36 years

i have slept with 11 different people with varying
degrees of luck & pleasure. sometimes i need

time to grow into things. as i get older i find that
sex has become more gentle & joyful. however

i still strongly endorse the redemptive nature of
good old-fashioned furniture-bustin' monkey love.

i find that engaging in small acts of subversion
is one of the few remaining glories in life.

the love i feel for my fellow man is most intense
when i am alone. i wish that was not the case

but apparently those are the cards that i have been
dealt. i understand that we all share the moon

but i am still driven to my room. i am occasionally
moved to tears by old photos - by the singular faces

of all of the people whose stories have gone untold.
i think that everyone should tell their story.

(from the chapbook TRYING TO UNRAVEL SOMETHING, ANYTHING, 1998)

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