knock it off already

remember, when

piss-drunk on the playing field, the otherness chattering like dark hell
you went white surprised by fun, lashing right out of your clumsy tongue
“it’s no place for you, this one”, but ha i could’ve gutted you right there
fallen onto the field and splayed blue, bursting into night; they watched you
like the seven grinning heavens above, headless all of them; you cast wide
a fishing rod of god, but Nothing pulled; look! you said, walking the void

first time in your life where you had no need to draw yourself
golden and clean, french, a rose in your mouth like a farmer’s pick
you glowed from that fat disbelief—they frayed at your humility, me too
but knew it was not accounted for up there, so where?