Insult (It & It) Blossoms

of all the ways
to be poor
you had to choose the one
where you work
80 hours a week
and leave your best stuff
in the butterfly nets
of the young--

that disappearing
buddhist
crap
wandering-in-the-woods
lonely-man
breaking-barriers-
into-song
stuff
hooked me
the way Europe did
in my early
twenties--

but now
today
this minute
and forward
you wouldn't catch me
sharing a room
with 16 cots full
of Germans and Swedes
itching and sweating
for the perfect
black & white
photograph--

you know
the one that looks
like a version
of the truth
by any other name--

So where's that leave us?
Jersey, I guess