Ass[ert yourself!]

When you want 

not to be the man you

weren’t but, rather, to become

the man you ought,

and you sought – and

seek, like game of

hid-

den and burrowed 

deep be-

neath your sense of

your own-

[éd]

sex, and ten-

dernesses and

derrières unbound (and so

maybe bound!), and that’s 

precisely when,

and then it is clear

how little you fear – any 

less or more –

over the blood of 

fleshed out senses and 

paced out spaces 

and recently sensed 

opportunity presenting itself

that nicely as the 

chances 

of poison-

free chalice allow you to 

just go and … well … choose

wise.

And then again: rise 

unsurprisingly,

in the event, from

the temptation sub-

merged and sectioned by so

much sadness and rejection

from the four institutions

that ert you so all those 

years ago 

of

yearned 

yays and 

nays, resumed and 

presumed and assumed as

long as anyone 

was able to remember or

refriend: or even

some 

time much longer than that.

And so finally

I stand tall, and by 

erting my comfort 

do recall the man I once

never was 

and I bring him –

like clay-booted inspector of

pedant-

icky right and

wrong – back to some 

semblance of real

joy.

The joy of the man

who

finally knows him

(self).

(And in this

know-

ing, 

becomes 

proud of his LOUD!)

Leave a reply:

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s