Self Mutilation

Juggle—
to balance
more than
3 objects
between the air,
and your hands.

Had an Uncle
once
who told me,
you can please
some of the people
some of the time,
just not,
all of the people
all of the time.

I don't juggle well.

Environment has become
toxic,
because of time spent
with the present
that has
no future.

Why try?
Didn't this fail
after 7
the last time?
Muthafucka, when will
you learn???

Beyond frustrated,
beyond fired,
beyond pissed, miffed,
and beyond point of being
muffled.
Fuck the world,
let your pen
do the walking.

Can't make the world
a box,
because everyone is
not
a perfect 90° angle.
Plus, it would
take four sides being equal...
and I'm
not good at
juggling...
And I be damned,
because no man
or woman
is an island.

Calgon in the 80's,
weed in the 90's,
will poetry
take me away
in this so-called
new millennium?

Lovers, friends, and
family,
mix like
light and dark liquors—
where is my
procelain God?
For I'm praying
that Earl,
will somehow
show me a path.

I am not
a juggler.
I am only a poet.