uncertainty is the spice of strife

study my shortcomings in hopes of long term solutions for finding a way to sink my own battleship as victory is right in reach

tyrannosaurus arms and weak wrists prevent a healthy dismount from the uneven bars that regulate my life

i’m not a smart man

not by any stretch of the imagination

clever like a crow with mental accuity of a seven year old

but not exactly someone you throw the keys to and give control

gifted with a sharp tongue and dull mind

like a whetstone cowboy

a dime store private dick with an obsession for killing brain cells and dancing as the nuclear rains pour down

a reactionary revisionist with an unmistakable talent for changing the course of history

one stumbling step at a time

third from the right on the evolutionary chart

thick brow

dim intelligence in vacant eyes

a debutante dullard with a knack for solving riddles through blunt force trauma

dilligently trying to be the best father in the world and incapable of parenting in the least

a race car driver with acetylene in his veins and just enough body dysmorphia to confuse his reflection for a sasquatch and cause a ten car wreck on the final stretch

smooth like gravel

rich like a trashcan fire in late december

a fear of intimacy not from fear of being hurt

but effort and understanding

been alone long enough now that it isn’t the great weight draped over my every action

now just a fitting excuse to hide and never intermingle

like a fish hook through the cheek

it only hurts if you acknowledge it

sassy and sensual like a loaf of unbaked dough fallen in the pan

aged like a fine wine and allowed to turn to vinegar with bits of cork bobbing like flotsam

a festering dungheap of inconsolable inadequacy

real or imagined

pretending to write all while wallowing in filth

yet still ready to leap head first into a mistake with the vigor of youthful idiocy

willing to fail if only to fight

unwanted

the lone sock after three loads of laundry

tossed to the trash two days before his mate was found half under the bed by a shoe

casually conniving causality until nature suits my expectations

a single dandelion in a field of ooze turned to dander and adrift on thought

still a weed

still not worthy

but beautiful in stark transition

yet single and at the edge of beginning to tingle