Who?

Who? Who could you be? A simple man Who enjoys life's simple pleasures. But who, then, am I? Am I the one who loves Courtney? Maybe. But another round? Maybe. And the fallacy may continue. But that bears nothing (something? Little? Next to nothing?) Or what really is at stake here? A simple woman, one who loves the quaff But what could be done with my life? Everything or Nothing at all? Utterly, convincingly white Who? Masculinity Is just as many precieve it And not The numerous styles and modalities of being a man Are like a friend I once had As I think back to those collegiate days of yore Trying to circumnavigate the barbed wire fence It was electrified, too And college was a place Where simplicity meant being alone I was never alone Supposedly I was never simple, then Computers were everywhere and high culture was melted with the new wave of machines So now, has this come to be me? I? Mr.Thomson and Mr.Satterthwaite “I USED TO WORK WITH YOUR WIFE AT THE RED CROSS IN TOWN” I might shout out the passenger window of the car Merrily driving through Langhorne, PA With my Mother So it's true-I'm not all that All what? An athiest who is too afraid to spend hours in front of the mirror in order to properly Adore the Magi therin Lest his father find him Ah-his Father! Indeed a hot topic for you. A man who was everything and nothing all at the exact same time to coin a familiar phrase. But the armies of Thompson and Satterthwaite as they battle over my brain. . . against the historical adeptitude of Dr. Jeap-- IT WORKS TO KEEP ME NEUTRAL! Meetings are key in my new future And is survival is a must Alcoholics Anonymous i appreciate Making a few meetings now and again Switzerland is important in my mind As are the Quakers Is Swiss neutrality to Mennonite nonresistance As B is to C? Ohhh. . . Dearest! Are you High yet? But I remember My gay, bisexual rattle Are you the one. . . Who is ostensibly into scents? Are you the one. . . Who has a deep love and respect for religions? Or are you the one? She points with a long finger And stares at me with angry eyes. And there was more. . .so much more. by Doug Wert