How To Howl - A Poem
#3 of Scrapbook
Inspired by the Rare Americans song, Milk Man
Howling for the sake
Not to talk or to take
But to feel a bit of soul flow
Free from the column and row
Of the spreadsheets that say
No, you must play this play
Act the act
Form this pack, this pact
Want this that, not that
Howl not for regret or nostalgia
Or to get the lines meant for ya
But to be present
For one second
Your mind a mile a minute but you just can't help it
So you sit with your head up to the sky and you use it
Forget the shit
Nothing to do but face the fact
That nothing ever gets to last
That this too shall pass.
You an' your lazy ass
What the fuck, just get it right, right?
That's what they think, in all their might
But what they don't get
Is there ain't no prophet
To tell dry from sopping wet
To tell God from wolf from pet--
To tell when you're your own net,
That you're your own they
The straw-man made from clay.
A howl is instinctual.
Its meaning miniscule.
But ultimately you gotta laugh.
Because the howl's all you have.