Content with the now and the known
but inside
the howling dog barks still
to the
acceptances
pad on the backs
“Good job”s
“mommy look at me”s
you only see the true faces
when your head is pinned down to the bottom of the urinal
still yearning for the truth
for the real stuff
for the kindred hearts
for the living souls
although they are being squeezed
from then and now
but what is confined is the essence
sit on the cliffs
dance bare-assed in the blizzard running deserts
and howl
yell
scream
cry
till you hear
the echoes of your own sound
