by A. S. Patric

what we do for money
things done in good faith
for the love of our fellow man
for a fuck or love, for both
the things we do for them
motherfatherwifesondaughters
the things we do for me
ambition and ego, superego +
id, evolution and development
for the blank page soul
for a blank cheque God
the things I’ll do for you
for the vague interest of your wandering eye
for the vast disinterest of your wondering I
things done in the middle of the night
things done in the cold light of day
all of this for you and for me, and others
the superabundance after survival
the superfluous after-hunt grunts
a swirl of ink in my brain
a splash of black in the heart
a freewheeling delight in cheating fate
printed on the inside of my eyelids
for a chance to meet destiny
the train that leaves 3:13am
in the station of your mind
arriving here tomorrow
in the nowhere of words
everyone else passes us by
like those clowns at carnivals
that take a coin to swivel and turn
for the ball through the mouth
for a lottery laugh of victory
all done on spec or simple glee
for a moment of distraction
for the chance of connection
the easy done, done easy
for the ball down the throat
stifling a coordinated yawn