They know I hide my howls in cheeky places

Always have

and no valid argument has dared me successfully

to stop

The playing field caters with vastness now

that everyone

simply subscribes to the bare number one

Epitomizing number one

Claiming it as a possession has shriveled to a bore

like roadkill

left by the night for the crematory foibles of the sun

or myself

when from my upstart dementia they proceed

to mine for hints

ascertaining whereabouts of those elusive primal screams

They don’t get it

Or perhaps I have just treasured those periodic

plumes of volume

more than anyone could fathom on their own watch


they’ll accuse me of being miserly with my cathartic heirloom

So be it

Those howls were honed for dynastic residencies

not a one-hit wonder

or a one-night stand or a one-trick pony

They epitomize

Those howls of mine illustrate far too easily

for marketplace posterity

They’re my answers out there hiding in the wind

they will have

to catch one regenerating blow at a time


05 12 20

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