Saturday, January 21, 2017

day TWO


I was a cub scout for all of an hour and then they laid that oath on me and it was all over
What a waste since I look really good in blue and knowing how to start a fire
Inside a soaking city would make me the handiest poet in town
In school I mumbled my way through prayers and pledges hand over heart head down in appropriate shame
The priest would say surely you've sinned more than that and I wished that I had
(Sure, I'd masturbated in a church rest room but I wasn't going to tell him that)
I taped a penny to the form I cut from the Sunday paper and mailed into the RCA Record Club
Agreeing to years of refusing the album of the month (I bought some Van Halen tapes & bailed)
My friends spent every minute of every day at St. Raphael's inking devil signs and nazi flags into every surface
The more astute at scratching out stars would sketch Ol' Dixie as well coz why not what the fuck
Then talk Sabbath, Maiden, and Zep at lunch while punching each other in the head metaphorically
My notebooks went sans artwork, my desk never tattooed by my own hand, and I never touched any of the girls' breasts
I suspected these things were related but I could never take it seriously and still don't
There are things in this world that you shouldn't worry about and others that should break your heart always
It's all confused and it's getting more confusing (I don't even know what I'm writing about here)
Someday I'll figure it out or maybe I won't whatever I still look good in blue and flags and oaths
make for lousy art

--Kristofer Collins

Kristofer Collins is the owner of Desolation Row 
Records and the books editor at Pittsburgh Magazine.
He is the publisher of Low Ghost Press.

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