Uncomfortable

There are times I am uncomfortable
In my own skin.
I want to be someone else.

A southern gentleman, perhaps
Sipping bourbon on a wide front porch
Attended by a loving daughter
Who esteems suitors by the standards
Established by my gracious example.

Or maybe I could own a garage
And wear an oil-stained blue shirt
With my name stitched above the pocket.
I would teach my son the honor of hard work
And knuckle-busting dedication
To my craft.

I don’t need to be a jet jockey
A quarterback
Fireman or cop.
I have no urge to be a superhero
It’s not in me to entertain the masses
Be anyone’s idol
To own the skyline
Or have a prestigious byline.

Maybe I could drive a truck.
I would know where to find the best cup of coffee
A good biscuits and gravy breakfast
And the cutest waitresses, coast-to-coast.

I might be a dog-walker
A radio talker
Night stalker
Carnival barker
Boat caulker
Or car parker.

But, like an NFL referee, I must say
“Upon further review”
No matter what my trade
Or the satisfaction of career
Nothing could soothe this inner ache
Because they all address the wrong need.

It’s not a matter of what I do
But who I am.
And, until I am content
With the man in the mirror
Anything else comes down to
“Do you want fries with that??”

No Matter

I thought I owned the world
That it all belonged to me.
Back when I held her
I owned all my eyes could see.

I was the master of my fate
The universe was in my hand
Because she was mine
I stood on solid land.

But there are thousands of poems
About care-free yesterdays
And millions of songs
In love’s hallowed praise.

But here’s one in testament
To love’s bitter taste
When two lovers part
And their lives are left in waste.

On second thought, forget it.
Let’s pretend I didn’t say a thing.
If we can, perhaps I’ll avoid
This miserable, fiery sting.

Instead, let’s think of butterflies
And rainbows in the sky.
If we can, maybe then
It will seem I don’t want to die.

But, damn, didn’t I love her!
I did everything I knew.
But sometimes, love isn’t enough
No matter what you do.