Shits and Giggles

 Now this one's just for shits and giggles
 Piss and tickles
 Dimes and nickels
 Cuz you know that poets don't make shit
 But I'm not here to just state the obvious
 Nor am I here to tell you about whether or not your glass is half empty or half full
 I'm just here to remind you that you need to be thankful that you got something to drink
 Can I get an amen.

 Cuz it can't rain everyday
 And there are more colors to the rainbow than just blue
 Just like there's a thin line between monologues and poetry
 Just like a mocking bird is nothing more than a plagiarist wrapped in feathers
 It's a cotton candy world so you better pull it apart and pop it in your mouth
 Cuz pretty soon it'll be gone
 Leaving you with sticky finger tombstones
 No friends but Moonshine and Wall
 And ya ain't got nothing left to do but bury the dead.
 And I know that for some of you that may seem negative-
 Just bare with me
 Cuz this is the only way I know how to do my thing.
And shit can get strange-
 I got them regional memories-
 Like-
 "One thousand two stupid things to do
 Borrowing without asking"
 I did "Dialing for Dollars" with Dr. Don
 And if that means nothing to you
 That's o.k.-
 We just grew up under different call letters.

Life is complicated like that
Like a fifteen-hundred piece jig-saw puzzle
It's easy to get lost on the upper right hand corner and lose sight of the big picture
That's why you need to keep looking at the top of the box if you're gonna get it straight
Just never forget-
Pennies are for wishing
And silver dollars are for the eyes of the dead
Hate a player like you hate the game
 Cuz it's just the oppressed creating a system where they are the oppressors
 They learned it from watching their uncle
 Like when he taught us that the only way we can truly shake loose the past is to bury it
 Bury it under half-truths
Bury it under Victory&Mac226;' voice
 Bury it under history
Rewritten
Twice Bitten
Like 50's nostalgia restaurants without the back door service
No more strange fruit a la carte on the menu

It's enough to burn you up-
 Sitting around waiting on the sunshine
 But it feels so damn good

 And contrary to popular belief
 And this poem-
 It really is great to be alive
 There is beauty in the struggle
 And even when there is no struggle
 There is beauty
 There is a moment you reveal yourself waiting to be met
 There is redemption waiting in the corner you refuse to dust
Believe in Santa Claus
The Easter Bunny
Sesame Street is three blocks that way
And then hang a left
Joy is not a mutually exclusive emotion
Learn to take a compliment
You'll live longer
 And you won't be such an asshole-
It's o.k. to get excited-
Even when you're thirty three
The moment the front door closes and you're home alone for-
Two
Whole
Days
Unless
Of course you live alone
Then I suspect it doesn't mean quite so much
But hey,
What do I know
I'm just a broke-ass poet

All I really do know is that the monetary value of my thoughts has been grossly underestimated
That the moment I saw my daughter I was hooked
That I will do everything in my power to leave her a home that's better off than when it was mine
I will get a tattooed tear for every moment she's away
I will hold the door open for the person coming in behind me
I will say please and thank you
I will fight the beautiful fight
I will fight the beautiful fight
I will fight the beautiful fight

Because every silver lining's got a cloud spitting rain
Everything gets washed away eventually
Leaving us all to stand and answer one last question
Will you play in the rain when The Flood comes or mourn in the basement?

You'll never be able to read your lifeline if you don't first make a fist

Come outside

I can almost feel the sun



© Todd Mann

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