Stiffness Be Gone

Though my inner insurgent gleefully sprints across the eight corners of a room filled with strangers

My body stiffens from social anxiety sometimes when those people have left

In front of a consistently filthy mirror, facial hairs once virile are now a matted bonobo beard

And an aristocratically handsome nose is replaced by a proboscis out of Buddy Bradley or on my worst days, Das Sturmer

But this is not one of those days

“Why don’t you write happy poems ever?” she asked after finishing “Green Widow”
“That poem was cathartic,” I reply, but I do think I am getting a bit redundant sometimes

I may have found myself a Beat, but even Ginsberg gasped for air overhead his black swimming pool of melancholy confessions

Time to shake the stiffness off and toss it in the drawer where I keep my cheap Mojo punk comps

In a past poem, I suggested future freedom from a white bread penitentiary, and it seems my freedom has arrived this hour

I shall dance like WC Williams in front of that no longer filthy mirror, picking the stiffness out of my fur

I will later donate the stiffness to lying should-be-cons like Casey Anthony in order to keep them in line and in check while the rest of the living world bleeds from their irresponsibility

Because unlike that tramp, I have no good reason to feel pain.

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