Monday, August 27, 2018

Jaws Of Life By Jason Ryberg

You know,
maybe we should
only do unto others
as we would have them
do unto us and maybe
he who has the gold
does indeed make the rules
for the rest of us and I suppose
some of us should probably
try a little bit harder not to
stare at beautiful body parts
(no matter how sweet-weeping-
Jesus-on-the-cross-ly beautiful
they are) and maybe we should,
for the most part, keep our hands
to ourselves and wash them
regularly as well as brushing and
flossing our teeth daily
and not sayin’ nothin’
if we got nothin’ nice to say
and there’s really nothin’ much
you can say against the ideas
of counting your blessings
and saving your pennies
and cutting your losses
and callin’ it even
and even that one about
running with scissors
is a pretty good one.
And especially that one
about not killing, but instead,
loving thy neighbor (as best as
thou possibly can without getting
thy-self steeped too deeply
in thy neighbor’s business)
and not coveting or begrudging him
all his expensive stuff and / or
his hot-ass-pie of a girlfriend
or wife (not her exactly,
but one almost like her, right?)
Maybe even that one
at the bar the other night,
the one that kept catching you,
all stupid-drunk and stoned,
staring at her tits because
you couldn’t bear
to look her in the eye,
couldn’t stand to have her
look right through you
in that way they do
that pretty much says
they don’t even see you).
Probably safe to assume,
in the end, the only one truth
that really adds up to a good goddamn
is the hard brick wall of a fact
that every morning we must rise
Lazarus-like from the beds
that we make each night,
put on our boots and our hats,
get a good running start
out the front door and dive
into the great,
wide-open jaws

of life.

About Jason Ryberg: 

Jason Ryberg is the author of twelve books of poetry,
six screenplays, a few short stories, a box full of folders,
notebooks and scraps of paper that could one day be
(loosely) construed as a novel, and, a couple of angry
letters to various magazine and newspaper editors. 
He is currently an artist-in-residence at both 
The Prospero Institute of Disquieted P/o/e/t/i/c/s 
and the Osage Arts Community, and is an editor 
and designer at Spartan Books. His latest collections of poems 
are Zeus-X-Mechanica (Spartan Press, 2017) 
and A Secret History of the Nighttime World (39 West Press, 2017). 
He lives part-time in Kansas City with a rooster named Little Red 
and a billygoat named Giuseppe and part-time somewhere 
in the Ozarks, near the Gasconade River, where there are also 
many strange and wonderful woodland critters. 

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