Good and Evil in Normal entries

Watching the day fade from my east facing window. In the morning daylight floods this room, in late September it’s most ways around the house by 4:30. I keep thinking about that damn reunion. It keeps coming back to the state of my head. I tried focusing by writing a poem, wouldn’t even consider it if I had written more than eight poems in the last six years. Focus ain’t the way to approach something you want all shiny and pretty. Some poems should be shiny and pretty, but not the ones you focus on.

No, those might be best not seeing the light of day. It’s just a form of meditation. If my head and left paw could stand it, I’d play one of the dozen or so instruments I have around here. Improvising a song takes razor sharp focus, or, going all the way loose. Those have less to do with light of day than when the spirit moves you.

I was thinking about why I have so little love for my high school years and why others do. It wasn’t the years, it was the school. I liked the years and stayed away from the school. Not everything was good about the years, but I learned a lot more doing other things. I was thinking about good and evil. I have reason not to believe in either. Some of those reasons came during the years I wasn’t physically in high school.

I’ve seen a lot of evil shit and a lot of good shit, but I never seen a person or other creature that was all one or the other. I know, that’s hardly profound. In fact it’s so simple it doesn’t need to be said. Very Often. Here’s one of those poems that never should see the light of day. The chorus is from a song I wrote.

Don’t go trifling
With good and evil
Have you looking
At the world
Down the barrel of a gun.
Was doing a nickel
Down Jackson State;
Big man got religion.
Let an aryan brother slap his other cheek
Four times
Before he shivved him
In the guts.
Don’t go trifling with
Good and evil.

All they ever do
Is babble on
About the way they do
In Babylon.

Shook old dirty face
West of Fargo
Caught highway 2
Racing the TransCan.
Jesus Christ himself
Should have been there.
Heard the Devil
Whistling
Onward Christian soldiers.
Could be he don’t know the words;
Could be he wrote the song.

All they ever do
Is babble on
About the way they do
In Babylon.

It gets dark
Early this side
Of September.
There will be leaves piled,
Dogs and children using the last of their summer
Skin.
Some of them could go
Their whole lives
Without
Good and evil.
Others just wear it well.