_43. Collective

We would make a pretty good portrait
for maybe university diversity
or student body welfare
if it wasn’t for all the red cups.
When I showed up to that picnic
Max said, I’ve gotta ask you a question
I’ve never had to ask you before
which is, Are you on meth?
No man,
just high on your sweet collective lovin
and whatever else I ingested that day.
Incidentals.
We ate that whole chicken
flung paint in poetic arcs
and said yeah, this is who we are
and always were.
Good company,
who else could I run with on the beach
strip down and bolt into the surf
free as I’ve ever been?