2D Glasses

Someone had gotten there before me
and left their mark.
Her skin, owned not worn,
projects a burlesque outline
not unlike
the others,
Shelby like a hurricane
descended
with an awkward sign
that said
“First of the night”
and to those who
would label
me as virtuous as
Armstrong or Polo
I can only say
that unexplored lands
have never been
so beneficial –
so human.
So intimate.
The barren topography
of a Winnipeg winter
replaced by the subtly
of sin
and the artificial openness
paid for by capitalism.
A man shouldn’t laugh
at this
person –
stripped as she was –
but one couldn’t
ignore the juxtaposition.
The interplay
of nineties music
and my hands being
overly forward.
She asked why I took my glasses
off.
“To see you”
So it is. That the eyes see
but the body knows.

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Been

Where have you been?
The mind races with possibilities
ripe with untrue juices
none the less savory and delectable
Spaces with prophecies
in the rear-view mirror can become
anything so long as they are closer than they appear.
Can I lie to you if it means that you will believe
something more true than
if I were honest?

Is that allowed?
Is the point of being honest
giving the right impression of events
or feeling guiltless in the fact
that you have successfully listed
every mundanity as it appeared
rather than as it was felt.

As a child I pissed myself
and in that moment Rome burned
on each of my cheeks.
I felt the ground rumble and dissipate
in an earth swallowing quake.
I knew that every pretension I had of being great
was a puddle beneath my shamed shoes.
Now is that true?
Is it?

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