duane esposito

 

PARTICULARS OF MY ORDINARY LIFE

 

 

I spend the day

lamenting & shaking,

 

quite sad, wasted


for the entire human potential.

 

I am unable


to face others

 

who, regardless


of my gracious, delicious nature,

 

are ridiculous . . .

& in our defense,

 

there isn’t much to say.

Evolution will surely

 

give up

on us all.

 

Yet I am glad about such things


from time to time

 

as love & triumph

& grizzled distress

 

& worldly accomplishment

& knowledge comes

 

from my realization


of the need I have

 

in the midst of this


to create.

 

I am Duane, the Good.


My wife’s got muffins.

 

I walk through the house


scratching & pulling

 

my scrotum.

Eat those muffins.

 

& I, distracted by failure,

the matter is the loss

 

present in my head,

admire her remarkable

 

beauty in the usual way.

 

Admit a few flaws:


twisted bones & crushed busloads.

 

Sprinklings for the shit pile.


Anxiety all night.

 

44 sawed-off shotgun barrels.

Rising semi-circles of light.

 

Her ass pressed up against my stomach.

Nose silhouetted behind my closed eyes.

 

Wind.

Rain down the dark hallway.

 

This delicious brain.


My Heart’s large, illuminate Mind.