Some Other Time

Thirty-five serious years I’ve spent

Toiling like a farmer in the field of language.

Thirty-five years of looking and listening.

Can anyone believe it?

Holy cow.

I think of all the minor gods of Egypt

Who will remain nameless

Because I never learned their names.

Not to disrespect the Arab-Spring,

But fuck, they're truly gods 

I never met.

I don’t even remember blue

Skies, I don’t remember Jesus

Half the time. Yes, I do.

No.
I don't.

What kind of poem 
Can I possibly make of that?

I'm half the man I used to be.

Daddy gave me a name.

I'm half the man.

Daddy gave me a name.

My dad who died 
Drunk on that

Country highway—
I speak the truth—
Rolling like a little Texas 
Redneck ghost on a farm tractor, 
Rumbling homeward 
From the unpaid bar-tabs—

He was the shite
Who named me.