You don’t have to be alone any more
with stomach pain and an empty bottle
though, when some other today is born
with clenched fists
you may be exactly that
but you don’t have to be
and that’s good enough.
You don’t have to bargain your free will
for elbow room on the glue-trap of your genome.
You don’t have to foist the voice that berates you
or expel splintered hurts from your ear
if only you could let them leave.
You don’t have to walk the streets
passed the all night café a dozen times
stupefied by the shame that comes
when man gives his flesh to the glut.
You don’t have to do what you always did
predestined does not mean inevitable.
Drains and tarmac run across the
outstretched hand of this town.
You can ride out if you choose.
