A ravaging storm of rain and wind,
On the final Halloween weekend,
Empties the streets of this Halloween town.
Witch’s hats are blown by the blast.
The ghouls of hell are gone at last.
The Christian preachers tried their best
To shame false gods in Halloween dress.
They laughed. Now nature’s wind and rain
Brings normalcy back to the streets again.
Normalcy is my God, much more
Than the harrowing spectacles of Christian lore,
Priests with their earnest, “Be good!”
Or more sly: “Find religion in pond or wood.”
(Just give me exercise and decent food.)
Discipline establishes space and room
For me to know a certain serenity in gloom,
Chaos, betrayal, misfortune.
Calmly, I light a cigarette in the wind.
A cigarette brings me closer to God.
Not “a smoker,” one smoke and I feel odd.
Tingling, I feel the need to shit; I fart;
Relaxing the body is the best medicinal art
And the secret to sex. I felt relaxed with you,
But the problem, of course, was you; we always feel
Troubled by others. We know only the self is real.
Sometimes we doubt the existence of our mask,
But the true self will never tell, so please don’t ask.
I smile. How to explain normalcy to you?
A Marxist, you want to change the world. How best to feel
What I feel about the rain, the wind, and the leaves falling?
Is that your phone? Someone’s calling.
Better take it. A cigarette, like God, changes your view
With a feeling, a small feeling which has nothing to do
With the view, but changes the view.
That’s all I need to know of God. Or Marx. Or you.