Has had to learn to live with pain
And how to shelter from the rain
And in the twinkling of an eye
Might have to be restrained
God help the beast in me
the man in black knew about it
that restless raging sorrowful thing
that turns in circles at the core of some people
turning and turning, searching
for a place to lie down.
tonight mine will not let me rest
she wants to wander forgotten pathways
neurons and synapses long grown over.
she is up and growling and I know for certain
the beast isn't trained, isn't tame.
and it's just me and she in here
she wants what she wants and I can't give in:
drink, drugs, love all consumed
but she is never sated and I go hungry.
she prods me out of bed and I wander exhausted
but wild-eyed into the streets
dressed to kill, can't hold still
and there is music bumping and flowing
out of the clubs and the bars
lights of all colors pulsing off wet pavement
and here we are, suddenly, being fed
here we are, just what we needed
the beast and me
the beast in me--our brains cradled in stimuli
bathed in color bathed in sound.
on another night it might drive us mad but
look!--we are mad already and our
heartbeat only needed a matching one
fast and hard enough to shake our
we have found the answer somewhere in the middle
here where the lights turn red yellow green
there is noise: pounding music screeching of tires
and the Beast recedes, turning and turning
finally finds that place of rest.
she closes her eyes and I open mine
in time to see the sculpture--a work of art
a flower of a former car wrapped so subtly
around a streetlamp--have I not seen it before?
and I am a participant, wrists deftly caught behind.
and I think how lovely I must seem
reflected in a thousand flashing lights but nowhere
near as exquisite as that torn and fragile metal
and I wish the beast would awake to behold
the true wildness of the world
the savage artistry of the mind
god help us.
KB © 3/10/2013