The true master of his universe
Knows he isn’t
He isn’t in control
In control of anything
Save one
He can’t save anyone
Anyone but himself
But himself
The mastery of that intimidating task
So few commit to
In favor of more cunning pursuits
The earning of things
In exchange for other things
The making of things
The thinking of great ideas
Great ideas leading to a commitment
Eventually of a different
Sort one or the other
To another or to a bed
With clean white sheets
Strapped into a dream of
Love and masochism
Thank g-d the airbags deployed
Deployed our troops indefatigably
Doggedly, the dawn it broke
It broke us
It broke us down
Into parts
Segments of our familiar selves
Toxic smoke from the burning
Of our macadamia nut shells
Grateful for the scars
Thank g-d no bones were broken
No animals harmed in the making
Of this wild west rodeo showdown