so i avoided them

All of a sudden we're supposed to be

Full of the old life. Like razors or catholics.

Supposed to have processed and excreted

The rhythms and liars that liked rain.

Old teeth ruby red old eyes.

A couple detergent excesses.

Every spontaneous headsong.

Like me in my complaints we're supposed

To be scuttled in our newfound plenties.

Of parks and stems and gruesome loveliness.

So we're supposed. And we're ready.