Is

“Where I Live”

I don’t live in the role of father;

Although I do.

I don’t live in the role of husband;

Although I do.

And I don’t live in the role of teacher or friend or son;

Although I do.

I live on the crest of the wave

That flushes out the space

Between what it means to live this life,

And my existence.

Because what it means to live this life is the ethical question

The devil and the little angel that rest their horns and wings

On my shoulders, and the question never goes away.

I live this life in the guttural the vocal the physiological

Obsessions and insecurities, addictions and disease.

I live this life in the real the moment the visceral

Guttural way that life sucks me up, spits me out

Makes me feel - in juxtaposition to death.

I don’t live life in a plain and ordinary way;

Although I do.

I don’t live life in the linear, dry working-stiff life;

Although I do.

I live where Hesse creates the Steppenwolf,

Where Conrad creates the heart of darkness,

Where Salinger creates the dead-and-lost Caulfield.

I live where I seek the space between knowing and not knowing,

Where I connect to something greater; yet feel disconnected most of the time.

I live in my mind and my heart. And sometimes people get it;

But most of the time they don’t.

I live on the crest of the wave that moves through time.

No reason- no rhyme.