Down by the Riverside
It is a vulgar error to assume the things you see there
were put in the mud just for you. You’ll be dead soon
enough, and you can think about it then, how a certain
percentage of the population walks around reading
your mind like it was an ad for laser surgery on the A train.
I won’t even mention the ghosts who wait for you outside
the bathrooms of historic homes, but I just did so: there
are ghosts outside bathrooms of historic homes waiting
just for you. Go to them but come to me first: I have the drugs,
the good ones for your alienation. But don’t be alarmed, you
have the option of paying a different fee, like joining a cult
to help you with your thinking or playing the hero and feeling
your feelings all the time. But I digress, in fact, I’ll be frank
and positive. I’ll be so frank and positive it will mildly terrify
the people around me who don’t quite see things my way.
That’s what the river is for: wrapping my friends
in light gauze and tossing them into the water.