“Control what you can, confront what you can’t,
and always remember how lucky you are to have yourself.”
—John O’Callaghan
It’s a monsoon outside The Maine show
so I sprint down Penn Avenue.
Skynet sent me from the future to test
if robots can run faster than the rain.
I’m a T-1000 Terminator
made of liquid metal, so it’s okay
to stomp in the big puddles. Splash!
My quadriceps finally fire, reminding me
I’m human.
I drink my beer where people used to pray.
Turning ultraviolet under a black light
I finish a bitter Dale’s Pale Ale.
In reverie I drift away: wondering—
Whatever happened to those people?
Did they find a new place to worship?
Sleep in or stop believing? It stops raining.
The sun shines outside. Rays pour through
the decommissioned stained-glass windows.
I sing along with John O’Callaghan.
So fresh (and electric)
So new (and improved)
I shake my hips, clap my hands.
Live music can help heal a man.
Whatever you’re going through
let the waves wash over your spirit
like a beer over your body. Learn to
love yourself again
one haunting song at a time.
