2025: A Space Odyssey 

Back in grade school, ’round about the second grade,

when the Parents Come to School Day came 

and the kids asked me why my dad who wasn’t there, wasn’t

I told them my dead dad was out of town on business

because I didn’t want to bring anybody down. 

They didn’t ask me why my blown-out candle of a mother 

was there, but that’s another poem. 

This year, from now on, I’m going to take up much more space,

like a gregarious grizzly bear, walking in from out of the cold

sitting down in the creakiest chair the establishment shows me,

crossing my furry legs, and ordering a Budweiser in the wine bar!

Now, none of this is means I want to be a mean man, 

turn into a man-spreader, we’ve seen that forever, and still.

Doesn’t mean I’m going to order a drink because I won’t, 

doesn’t even mean I’ll turn into a bear, although it may be too late. 

It means hang out the brain-washing to die. 

It means speaking up, coming alive. 

Means not asterisking every thought I have to a footnote 

in the back of all the books, means not waiting 

for the scholarly introduction, to introduce me. 

I tried this out last night at some kind of a reading, 

I don’t even know what kind, but I wanted to go to one. 

At the question and answer session after, 

I said something 

then they asked me, 

what on earth are you talking about? 

But I didn’t care, and it didn’t hurt.

I have room now, open space. And I’ll tip 30% in the wine bar. 

I wanted to say something!