cool it, by Herman Shorts

cool it

cool this angst some

with beer, amazing

how it works, three in

and suddenly ashamed

that i could hate

everything so much.

(2013)

thank humanity for beer, if nothing else whatsoever.

yes, there is a gap between us always has been now it is

why is nothing i can do now. where it went. what that echo means, if anything

now, I’m no Bukowski but my friends who don’t like poet… except his stuff, tell me they like mine, and I can drink like a drinking machine

people, mostly all barely beyond apes, cannot be trusted. they are incapable of caring

reflecting on the moment before, would be useful only were it not already perfect.

yes, i’m saying sunshine & rainbows will flow from your heart & other lovely places like living liquid

if ever someone is my dearest ear who hears my truth as theirs

here’s a story. it may even be true. where i come from nothing ever sucks, so i

root it out the tiny bit left that says someone’s in charge not you. don’t let it live

love does not beat on doors, beg at tables. it is always

we go walking around walking all over this town nothing ever getting us down cause we’re just a couple of clown…

webwomb’s not the maker of me. came into it as falling is done. down, only always

I love how you talk Down to everyone In your poems Which, unlike fiction Are not covered

first fruits hardly a handful, the garden

Fieldwizards and firetops. Wobblybirds on snowflowers. Chilled milk and chowder for the little prince. Mothercake for mumbled thanks.