Beer Plus Sex Equals Humanity

This hill has become mundane.
Each semester I bring young minds
to this hill, and we write like beings
scared to live, scared to dream.

We are nothing but the scapegoats
of God, nothing but a red door
on an outhouse, our bodies shivering
in the air which is matter, which
is atmosphere, which is breath.

I am scared to sit in this wet grass.
I will stain my ass like I’ve stained
my life. Decisions are freezing
and melting in front of me like
a science experiment.

I light my hair on fire and place
it next to my decisions. They dissipate
into the humid air. They consummate
my perception of life. I have forgotten
what life is anyhow. I thought I knew.

Like fucking Captain Planet, maybe
one day our powers will combine,
and God will emerge from the cool
cloud-loitering sky.

I doubt it.
I doubt it.

I have been searching, jumping
from so many clouds in an attempt
to find God and happiness. I am now
wading through highs and lows,
searching like a pimp in recovery,
like HIV in a bloodstream.

I am acquitted of my sins.

I stand like a powerful substance
diluting these minds. I grant them
knowledge which is unnecessary
to live, to be. All that’s necessary
to be is a drunk man in a bar
with smooth words.

That’s how life’s created.
That’s your precious miracle,
humanity, miracles born
from hormones
and sluts and alcohol.

Confucius,
Socrates,

It seems being is quite simpler
than anyone imagined.