I need to fucking rest,
light some candles,
read the Torah,
or just a book I have
been putting off,
because I am getting old
and fat and gross,
and next I am going to Houston
for the damn Super Bowl again.

I swear by Solomon,
that life is long, and everything
comes at once, because,
one day you wake up
and you are 34 years old.

There was never a she
that understood this part of me,
but since the year of the European horse
decided to suck out the moon,
and she decided not to hold me,
I decided to embrace holy shit
that was lost upon the sand of time
and the armpits of my former family,
all dead or out of control.

then the rabbi kicked over a motorcycle
and high-fived me, told me how to hide,
because you and I were nothing but
a disregarded piece of pie and a shoe
on the side of the road, so what.