Our heads contain worlds. Or is it just the one over and over?
People pop out to smoke cigarettes,
simper, gossip, fuck and pray.
Maggotty ideas fester – let them die –
voices assault us daily.
What is real I cannot say.
He’s tried to flirt with the mainstream.
His world always out of kilter
at an angle only he can measure,
drumming beats no one will follow.
There is no shared vision,
yet we wish horses of belonging for us beggars.
Come inside, ladies and gents!
If only you’d discover that underneath I’m much like you,
a gentler man of erudite barbs.
One read and you’ll be captivated.
I know I’ve worked so hard for this:
how can I share that knowledge, that wonder with you?
How do you keep your balance as a creative person? That is the question that Joe Hesch would like us to consider…