A Man as Crude as Any

(a response (reflex?) to the Wendell Berry piece that my friend Jeremy posted over on 
 The Sand County ...just what happened when the pebble of those words hit the pool 
of my mind...)

A Man as Crude as Any

I am not afraid to punctuate 
profundity with flatulence.
I am as crude as biology,
as physiology, as the 
undeniable body that
flinches and rages,
blusters and bluffs.
I can not do justice
to the gifts I find all
around us.  These
jewels that fall from 
my mouth are an
aberration, the lucky
grunt of an ape that
happened upon a sound
that happens to sound
like the sound of another 
thing, a welling up from within 
for a thing that will always 
be a mystery from without.

I am not only naked 
in the sun, but crying
and sobbing before the
eyes of others.  I am
too aware of the game
to play it well.  I would 
be against the wall,
were that practice 
to find its vogue
again.  I would 
fight and feel a fool
or I would cast my 
eyes down and feel
a coward or I would 
do both and be redeemed
or I would do neither
and be damned.  My
teeth would become 
brittle sticks within
my mouth and my
tongue would turn
to stone, and fall
into my throat
and choke me.

6 thoughts on “A Man as Crude as Any

  1. That was… visceral. Felt like a song, like a grunge tune from the 90’s, just angry and irreverent. And stretching and reaching… I think this is my favorite from you to date.


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