Mather Schneider

Or Maybe It’s Already Ended 

Let’s not be melodramatic
let’s not wear turtlenecks in the sun
let’s not stand up there and apologize for nonexistent
stage fright
let’s not applaud wildly like soccer moms
at kindergarten graduation
let’s not be sad because it’s cool
or delicate because it’s expected
or vegetarians
let’s not pretend we’re Indians
or gangsters
or are channeling some Egyptian princess
let’s not quote Becket
or carry bibles everywhere we go
or romanticize bus stops
or heroin needles
let’s stop saying blood and guts and
let’s stop saying genius and must-read.

Let’s start being honest
about all this
it’s not much
we’re not much
goobers in the sand pile
downers in skinny jeans
latte-slurpers and sushi-chewers
screws loose and heads fat as Thanksgiving turkeys
just look at the way we walk and talk and
make videos
it’s sickening
even our laughter is false and condescending
our little hard-ons
our little death plays
12 poems about starvation before dinner
9 poems about heart-ache after dinner.

Rebels, please, even our preachers have earrings
and tattoos
everybody’s trying to sell their penny-sick souls
everybody’s trying to sell their dimestore doohickies
shit, just look at the cherub faces
of the poor prepubescent world-changers
chapbook makers
pony-tailed haiku poopers
shopping mall roosters with perfect noses
crowing about the hard life
academics writing papers about reviving the male spirit
slapping their own asses
loafers and tenure and diarrhea down their legs
which nobody will mention.

Where will it end
where can it end
our doggy-whimpers
practicing inflections to the mirror
writing “you are beautiful” in lipstick
believing everything that falls off
the ends of our dull little pencils.

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