Secret (the)

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  • Crazy

    Secret (the)

    Best way to keep a secret is tell it, just like that – mixes in with all the other palaver – nobody’s gonna listen, believe you or even care: the Secret

    Told the lady behind the counter
    at the deli that I’m crazy and she just laughed and said no! But it’s true I really am crazy
    And she said you don't look crazy
    And I said no I don't suppose I do
    That's part of my problem though I look normalwhateverthatis but I’m not
    I walk around in a world of normal people and every once in a while I have to poke someone and tell them I’m not in the same world as they are and then they don't think I’m crazy
    but that I am crazy for saying so

    And she leaned over at me finally and said
    What is it you are crazy weeth?  And I said

    I’m bi-polar. You know, manic-depressive?

    And her eyes glazed over like the hams and salami
    You don't know what that is do you?  I said
    And she said
    No I don't know.  What is that? And I said

    That's what I am, I’m manic-depressive
    Andshesaid in hersweetest sleepy-eyed droopy-eyelid limpid voice
    I’m sorry    I’m very sorry you're … whatever it is you said ...

    I tell you what (she said) !!  Get far away! Just get away from it all for a while! Take a vacation when's the last time you took a vacation?

    Go drive somewhere in your car even if you don't know where you're going!
     and I said i can't get away from myself I’m sorry

    I have to take me with myself wherever I go he goes and I come
    I go and he comes I wish I could ...

    Then I realized this was just too much about me and my words trailed off

    What vacation did she want to/ need to take!? What was crazy when crazy really came to her? What was it for her to speak her heart to a stranger?

    What did all my words spun and flung so carelessly bite into I didn't know this lady

    So I said well, yea, you know I’ll do that

    And she smiled it meant a lot that’s what you have to give when you're
    In yourself
    Gave her the response she needed to hear
          heart to heart
    Appreciate it really- your idea- I’ll do it!
    I’m gonna try and do that

    And by the way
    don't mind all my crazy talk
    You know, I’m just a little crazy

    And she said no! And I said yes! No! Yes!  Ha haha

    I am

    And I could hear myself and how I must sound to her
    Like some bothersome man who needs the attention - lonely most likely like men get when they think about it and probably - more than likely
    They had too much liquor
    The alcohol- and the way they talk
    because they're drunk - they talk around women
    And can’t see the barriers and can't see that they're seen sloppy drunk they say

    Don't pay me any mind, I’m just crazy
    And then they tap the sides of their head like it'll rattle
    and they grin
    that awkward, hanging grin
    When their lips and tongue are thick their heads spinning and the room is turning around them

    And he thinks I’m putting on a pretty good show
    I’m drunk and I know it
    Don’t show it too much

    Want to be loose but not too loose and lose their respect and he thinks in the far back of what’s left functioning in that mind he's pickling

    That because he can't see straight
    that nobody else can either

    But knowing they’re pretty drunk they stumble and sway towards the door because you don't score women when you're drunk
    You just have some fun
    And practice the lines you're too introverted to say sober you have some fun and kill another night

    Stumbling and waving as they go thinking for the life of them
    I’m crazy to be this drunk but I’m a crazy guy

    Until they wake up the next morning and find out they're not crazy at all just sick

    And it's the same-ol same-ol: job, wife or kids a pale sheet pulled over the world of lights and fancy

    But I wake up the next day (woke up one day, that is) and find out
    (found out)

    No hang over just a spill-over
    a continuation of what I thought had been a bad experience
    and now it’s just my life
    and life just kind of flip-flopped on me in the night

    So I turned around walked away from the nice lady iknewjustasmidgenbetter in the deli
    to tap the side of my head and grinned at her
    a wide but fading grin
    attempting to leer

     

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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