In This Mess

When you’re familiar with the total picture
you stop reading Hamlet in high school
get sidetracked with sexuality and budgeting
you won’t notice other people drowning next to you
while arguing politics or other topics others fear discussing
so you can pretend you succeeded in something.
 
I leave when I say hello, you don’t ever say goodbye
though it would do us both some good to accept  
our evasive existence, find strength to be sensible
like the nice guy from night school who smells like
stale spearmint and breakfast, playing genius, or Jesus,
(or some other temptation) leans in too close, grins this
 'you never know what's happening tomorrow.'