Hep Cat Pariah

Squaresville man, that’s right,

the place between the head and

the heart, where fiery passions are

doused with reason and accountability.

“Oh no, man! That place is a

drag. A real bummer and not for

the truly hip at heart. I’m an artist

man,” you dig.

A coven of responsibility and

moderation, that’s Squaresville.

Where unbridled human passions

are tempered with self-doubt,

shame and the occasional regret.

“No, man, NO! We can’t be headed there.

We’ve got the skee-ball tourney and the

jam-a-lama jam at Rudy’s tonight. The people

will be fired up, they’ll be hip to us”, you scat.

Nope, we’re going to Squaresville.

Where there’s nothing but attention to

detail and microscopic self-examination

over the choices we’ve made in our lives and

the consequences therein.

“I’m not going man. You can go, but I’m

not going! I’m going to drink a bottle of red wine,

smoke some of this awesome home grown,

and roll my head on my neck to sweet tunes until

the sun comes up, man,” you protest.

I see the train now, next stop Squaresville.

Bologna sandwiches on white bread,

Hot dogs with no toppings, white cake,

beige coveralls and bowl haircuts for everyone.

Plus a deep exploration of our sexual shame.

“Serious man. I’m not getting on that train

with you. I’ve gots beats and bones inside me

begging and yearning to roam free like the wild

animal I am, man. An incandescent brightness

comes from me, daddy-o,” you beat.

Squaresville will make sure to shade

that light with responsible insecurity and

appropriate shame. You’ll feel bad soon enough

and that’s good. It’s good to get to Squaresville,

where everyone is judged by themselves most harshly.

“How do I get out of this line man? Is there,

like, a button to call someone or like, a rope

to duck under? Like a, like an adult to help me?

I don’t want to go to Squaresville man,” you drop.

All aboard to Squaresville,

no stops between the heart and the head,

Last call for Squareseville…

An empty train platform,

a cliched piece of paper flutters in

the empty space as the train pulls

from the station.