What a marvelous failure I’ve become
since I decided to stick a heartbeat
in the universe’s craw.
All righteous and jellylike
in my singular desire, which is
to design my own narrative process.
Here’s a procession
of angry sensations,
all shouting for higher wages
and a chicken in every pot-smoker.
Which is how I came
to find myself here:
a marvelous failure
in an even more marvelous swamp.