By Misti Lake
Date: 18 March 2001
My Wild is Real
you speak in metaphors and oxymorons and superlatives
you're a hyperactive hyperbole hound
you would like to think you're a myth in the making
you fancy yourself immortalized in a painting
a rock song
a movie about your all dressed up and nowhere to go life
you're boring! you're mediocre! you're a bleating sheep!
...so deal
I'm ravenous and restless
'cause my wild is real
I've eaten up the highway like Pacman dots
hitchhiked to L.A. from Tahlequah on a whim
danced around outside in a suburbia hell backyard naked
partied with the band on the roof and got thrown out by
hotel management
and that's a slice of real life
not wishful thinking
not daydream believing
I'm not duplicitous or deceptive
I'm receptive to intuitive insight
flashes of spontaneity
I've rode on the back of a Harley
and smoked weed beside a highway that snakes
through deer infested hills
and oh let me tell you
about the endless parties
swigging Jim Beam straight from the bottle
telling guys I wasn't attracted to
that I was in the process of becoming a man
so many people look at me and see a fragile
broken doll
and are somewhat surprised
when I show them my dog tags
and tell them the stories
West Hollywood the summer of '94...the Summer of Love
in Ingram, Texas in 1995
and the road trip to Las Vegas
that still isn't over
I'm not waiting around for anyone to write it all down for me
I'm writing the stories
because they happened to me
and are happening to me
and I don't trudge through this life
with blinders on.
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