Aesthetics

Aesthetics

maybe
the goal
of the artist
is to understand
what the fuck it is
he's doing

like
this
bullshit here
what is it?
art
or something else?

the best i can tell
it's an exercise
in being authentic
exploring
what it is
to be me
maybe
even you

it's a morning exercise
of the heart and mind
when i'm fresh
reborn
before
i transform
to the other things
i need to be
to get through
another day

here
i can be
my potty mouth
my potty mind
my potty ideas
with freedom
with abandon
like nowhere else

is 
this tawdry creature
what i wish to be
or
what i am
behind 
what i need to be
out there?

here
my thoughts
ideas
means of expression
feel
more authentic
unlike
the professional
me
saying 
what needs to be said
or the family me 
polite
smiling
agreeing
over the dinner table
on a holiday
the Good Housekeeping
the Better Homes & Gardens
the martha stewart 
and rachael ray
version of me
that never upsets
never spoils
the holiday
the turkey or ham
by examining
what it means
to be
family

i've discovered
this 
right here
is the only place
to explore
authenticity
cause there's so little
to be found
so little demand
in a meeting room
in a classroom
in a pew
within any topic
of discussion

there's some
to be found
along the bar
over booze
and smokes
over some pretenses
abandoned
for a drunken
spell

some authenticity
shared
between one another
in our vulgar jokes
vulgar thoughts
vulgar ideas
that can't be expressed
anywhere else
but right here
or there

but it's not enough
cause people
no matter how loose
they'll tighten back up
almost by instinct
over
their politics
their religion
their ideas of themselves
when scrutinized
in any sort
of robust way

they wanna hide
behind all that shit
keeping
their authentic selves
secret
undercover
from us
and themselves
like the dirty habits
of the pervert
the molester
the fetishist

even
with a friend
recognizing
sharing
a tendency
toward
art 
and intellectualism
he don't get
why 
his arrogance
his obnoxiousness
in imagining himself
so intellectually
so culturally
refined
causes me
to shut down
and shut up
when i don't wanna challenge
the obviously
contestable

he don't understand
i don't
wanna challenge
i just
wanna chill
in my time
away
from all the other places
all the other people
just like him
where i can't be
me
and they
can't 
and won't
be
them

with the intellectual
i cower
cause i don't
wanna fight
knowing
the only reward
is more fuel
for more of this
so i dreadfully
feign agreement
or disinterest
for a while
just to get it over
with

just like the rest
despite
his intelligence
there's no point
in scrutinizing
in exploring
when the only reaction
is to double down
since
any answer 
to "what is........?"
is never 
a civil discourse
a pleasant examination
it's only
and ever
an emphatic 
set of statements

the intellectual
wonders
why i spend 
so much of my time
with the lowlifes
at the bar
instead of more time
with him
stroking 
our interests
in ideas
and culture

it's cause
though i'm no poet
or rum-dum philosopher
there
i can still be
the drunk
absorbing vulgarities
there
absorbing
more pretenses
orphaned
there
for a while
than anywhere
else
including
with him

he don't understand
just like them
he don't want 
his ideas
challenged
like the idea
he's always
the smartest guy in the room
with the wisest take
on any topic

him
just like them
who don't want
their ideas
on politics
and religion
and themselves
challenged
they just want them
heard

at least there
i can be
more at ease
maybe
more authentic
among the lowlifes
than with him
but never
as authentic
as i can be
here

what is this thing?

art?

anything more
than an exercise
in being authentic
an exercise
in holding onto something
for a while
from the faint
perspective
of me
in the early hours
instead of
the versions of me
i need to be
as the day
rolls on?

is there 
compatibility
between art
and what
this is?

why
am i doing this?

cause
there's nowhere else
to try to be 
any more authentic
any more real
to explore
what that is
than right
here