Talking My Walk

Talking My Walk

Each day I make my walk

Up and down Druid Hills

December decks the walk with grinning

Snowmen whose plastic carrot noses
Breathe no better than mine

As I clomp the asphalt and concrete

Imagining Immanuel Kant

How should I apply his C I

His Categorical Imperative how

Universalize my maxims this sun soaked

December day as I pass

Latinos with ladders and saws

Boys walking their dogs

Women jogging tits bouncing

The porcelain Santa may hold the answer

Beneath his red frock and white beard

He pees into a basin he smiles

As if his exposure itself is a joy

If only he could pee down the chimneys

Of those awaiting their gifts

Of factories spewing smut and slag

Would Kant today go about his walk

Rational and calm contemplating the Noumena

Would he masturbate daily as well

Space Time and Causality dissolving in his climax

Where do I walk if I want to feed the hungry

Stop the Saṃsāra as red with war

As Santa's frock

How should I walk my talk

How should you as the planet

Spins toward doom as avarice

Kills hope as money runs out

As oil drips away and we suffocate

In our own gases

If I carry a sign to city hall

If I vote for a civil rights hero

If I write swoon-worthy poetry

Or an essay published in Time

If I pee down a chimney if I

Make love to another human being

Will it make a difference

Will Kant's philosophy save us

I walk my walk

Up and down Druid Hills

Nod at neighbors who would abhor

My feelings and my world view

Pat the dog that will howl in the yard
All night alone and alienated as a billion

Humans are

Jack

Winter Solstice, 2011