I told everyone about it, splashed it up and down the streets,
had it bleeding from my heart down my legs, shrieked,
oh I cried it out loud with a bullhorn, trumpets, I sang,
oh I bellowed, painted it on my arms and hips, I danced,
oh I flailed and kicked in hair-flying madness with it
flung over my shoulder, tied to my wrists, holding my
head and my torso together, the weight that kept me
from ripping apart and the gust that pummeled me up.
Oh, but my friends don’t know why they were born.
They said ‘would you still do it if it never came with
And I said “OHHHHHHH, baby brothers,
tell me when you’ve grown, for there’s
but seeing and being
and anyone who tells you otherwise
doesn’t know why they were born
or they’d be shouting and raising a fuss
and living in the desert to do what they would
for there is no glory,
but seeing and being.