Homeless,
Angry,
I will lash out at you
When you
Are terrified,
Attempting to cross the street
In your hometown
And suddenly the dumpster
Doesn’t seem so bad to me
And suddenly the dirty dish water
In the sink
Doesn’t seem so gross
And I am guided by a white-hot light
In this life
Wherein I perceive the western sky,
Wherein I perceive the full moon
And invent,
Thereupon,
A new donkey dance,
And you will know my pain
And you will be me in your next life
Unless you can orchestrate one
Activity at a YMCA,
Activity at the moist tendrils
Of a corpus callosum.