crazed Notsuoh nights lead
to some head shaking days
what just happened?
why did I or he or she
say that
do that
what was meant by that
what am I to make of that
of it and
where exactly is this
taking me
if it is a pattern
a tendency
a demon
a character defect
a self destruction
burning in my gut or
where a soul would be
or is flickering in
a dark corner…
Jim asks me the question
something to the effect
How is it I can be
who I am standing at
his bar, calm, collected, etc.
and then that one
screaming ranting raving
on his stage Open Mic nite
a “genius” he
even ventures…
throughout the night
I start coming up with
my own answers
but none he is
available for
he is off tending
to other drunks
and getting increasingly
more trashed himself
Robert points to the
performance
posing that my presentation
is abrasive and listeners
would more broadly embrace
my creations
if they varied
and did something
other than
in listening to it all
I began churning
my own solution will still
ultimately be mine
serve my own interests
reek of my signature
and for now
forever be “BGK” stamped
hide inside the scream
climb up
from the scream
you are confused
by the scream
I understand that you are
I cannot blame
that you are
I cannot expect anyone
to get
what I do not
understand fully myself
like at what point
does a model
become a supermodel?
it is not my question
as Jim asks me what he does
I later start turning it around
inside and
asking my question:
What is your Notsuoh
and if it were
a guy out on a dog walk
wouldn’t it really
be just a cat on
a leash walked by a frizzy-haired
radiation-treated former lesbian
progressively ignored by
society as the days go on
as she kicks obscenities at the curb?
we are that random bunch
of weirdos that
pay allegiance to a bar
with the worst bathrooms
in the whole city
and relish conversations
delving into wreckage
discoveries and also victories
the tragic and the tragedy
is that
what we gain is later lost to
too many drinks
come on
you can do better
I know
I also get
that in these discussions
they want to see that crazed version
of BGK come down off the stage
and be present in that
form at the bar
instead of the would-be Russian
with his head down
or head buried in the notebook
head buried quietly between
Terra’s legs
less
socially awkward
like I’ve been
my whole goddamn span
okay, okay
BGKPOETRY.COM 