The bawdiness of life was not guaranteed.
I bathed with roach carcasses.
Smoked cigarettes with lung-cancer-patients
(If I was bored) sold heroin to 12 yr olds
Outside the Middle School Commons.
I laughed ,in a self appointed divinity,
At children vomiting underground currency
Onto a tax purchased slide. Observed the stunned expressions
Of pre-pubescent eyes growing wide with terror,
As a splash of vomit awaited their bodies
Like a water park slide
Designed for family fun!
I am wanted in three Northern states.
But in the Southern states
My behavior is accepted and encouraged.
“They need to learn about life sometime.”
The parents said.
“Less people on welfare. No food for junkies.”
Florida’s governor claimed.
While admiring the opiate-d public
A profound revelation clung to my tongue.
I shared my experiences with seance summoned apparitions.
And Sam Walton) to name a few.
So the bawdiness
(Both human and cultural)
Became a take and give
Of trust and pleasure.
That I would censor decency
And encourage every Porta Potty
To be made with clear glass walls.
So that everyone
Could take pleasure
In the known.