Acts II (Hope)

Acts II (Hope)

(wherein ten thousand juggalos

quench the fires of hell with love and laughter)

outside my window

the fires of Gehenna are burning

I can see the fires rising now

as I sit and drink my morning coffee

musing at the fact

that no matter where I go

hell always finds me anyway

hell always comes to me

but the steam on my coffee is rising

nonetheless

through the chill morning air

in my room:

so do the screams of hell outside

dancing in the air

like sparks from the fire

that burns at the heart of everything:

we throw our bodies in piles now

we take pictures now of everything we do

but here in hell

where the witches of Papua New Guinea

are still put on display

while the men pour gasoline

down their throats

and the women gawk

posting pictures of it all on Facebook

glad it isn't them this time

there is still hope

there is always hope

because hope is why hell exists

hope is all that matters

hope is so important

that we must suffer to attain it

here in hell

where the blood on the walls

is meant to tell us why we're here

where the screams that echo

down the cavern walls

were put there just for us

so that we can finally become

who we are

so that we can finally be pure

that is what hope is

it is ten thousand juggalos

in black speedos

on their own island

celebrating miracles

with their faces painted like clowns

nuts hanging in the water

that is hope

it is tying your pubic hair

in a nut weave

not giving a shit what people think

that is hope

it is knowing

that money doesn't matter anymore

once you know what money's for

that is hope

hope is a bag of candy

that Wal-Mart doesn't sell

without a doctor's note

hope is Chuck Mangione

blowing that funky sweet flugelhorn of his

feeling so good

and always hearing the children of Sanchez

the way that I will always hear

the witches of Papua New Guinea

hope is one more Bob Dylan song

before he dies

hope is a raging unstoppable erection

at the age of forty seven

when she's face down ass up

when she looks at you over her shoulder

at the age of twenty seven

and says this party starts now

channeling the spirit

of Hunter S. Thompson

without even knowing it

hope is not outliving your children

and somehow making it when you do

hope is loving your children

more than you love yourself

hope is knowing

that being lonely

and being alone

are two different things

hope is obliterating Isis

from the face of the earth

without killing their children

in the process

hope is one line of poetry

that never goes away

that one book

you can't put down

hope is raging against the dying of the light

hope is in your fucking face

hope is a refrain

blowing down the edges

through the trees

on Tobacco Road

hope is knowing

that even old Chuckie Manson

can find peace one day

when he finally deserves it

hope is Carl Sandberg's

American Songbag

stuck in your guitar case

underneath the guitar

where someone has scrawled

this machine kills fascists

on the pick guard

hope is scrounging up enough loose change

for one more beer

hope is the blow job

you've been dreaming about

hope is finally getting a raise

and finally paying off the cards

hope is your car starting in the morning

hope is paying the rent on time

hope is not walking in the women's restroom

by mistake

hope is not getting caught on camera

when you do

hope is one last cigarette

you didn't know you had

hope is the one thing

you didn't know you knew

and finally seeing the women

of Papua New Guinea

set free like singing birds

even as the fires of hell

blow outside our windows

even as we sit here musing

our coffee growing cold

on the only things that matter