Well, sure, you may have had a point about simplicity
but that doesn’t make living in a wet barrel on the street any more appealing.
(My thinking is always clearer after a good night’s sleep in a soft bed, anyway.)
And what’s so much more truthful about your first impulse
over even a little consideration?
Your desire to make everyone around you uncomfortable
because-fuck-them-that’s-why
has nothing to do with my true nature.
I would absolutely prefer looking into the face of a stranger,
perhaps over some fancy cheese and a nice craft beer,
and believe we are better in the struggle to be with each other
than we would be alone,
kept warm by some unimpeachable philosophy.
Look, I know my words are sometimes inadequate to the task
Of describing a man, but
tossing a plucked chicken (poor thing) to the floor of the forum
isn’t the end of the discussion-
It just means that even the simplest terms aren’t that simple.
The rest of it may take longer than you have patience for,
but that’s your problem.
And yeah, I know that dogs don’t seem to second-guess their actions,
but I am not a dog, and neither are you
(and also I think you’re underestimating dogs).
The work of witnessing all of this endless, chaotic beauty
and then describing it to one another is messier, in many ways,
than your tattered robes and cracked feet are.
And just because a particular idea doesn’t land for you
doesn’t entitle you to shit on the theater stage
(easily the most unpleasant thing I felt obliged to clean up,
at least, I did at the time. And I don’t anymore.)
If you would just stop and listen—
listen to me, listen,
for just a moment, for just a second,
just for one single sentence—
I could tell you that I’m no longer willing to entertain the notion
that seeing this broken old world
as anything less than a goddamned miracle
is some kind of moral failing on my part.
My job is to love it as hard as I can
with every sense I possess,
sing its story with every word I know,
and fix the parts that I can fix
and pray for the parts that I can’t.

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