Questions (Full of Beans)

If I never don suits
I don’t know if I’d choose
red age shovels or stitching ten thousand suits for a buck
when you can just dream and

trying to race ahead
Because they think we’re led
by time or the universe or the undying cadence
He would make a point by

taking this cold, cold chance
to thirty minutes of chance
before the devil knows I’m still breathing, thinking that he’s
yet to be full of beans

when I think the long fall of prose made you fall to your knees
He does not believe the world is not what he thinks he sees

The Tense Hapless, Uptight Ennui of a Child

The tense hapless, uptight ennui of a child
Wakes up suddenly with no sense of time
He goes downtown to see the wild
The roaring buses and the jagged pavements
The sun of the world, his accidental crime
Was to live
Among the vampires
With fairytales and stale bread and all their pale faces
And to fall from grace
he descends to the seas
of thought and aimless memories
of the wonderful ways
to get by without what they really want,
these jagged pavements over his head
and to where it led, to all the things said,
The tense child wakes up
looking right through the roaring buses
while the hapless child looks on
to the sound of this tangled forest
and makes him uptight,
well he knows he’s right
to wear off at the daily breeze.