Can of Worms

A disconnected, rambling poem inspired by these lines from The Tragically Hip’s song, Grace, Too:
“I come from downtown
Born ready for you
Armed with will and determination
and grace, too”

I’m dancing as hard as I can,
and grace has nothing to do with it.
Grace flew out the window in 1992,
the year I turned thirteen,
and I ain’t been the same
since the day
my eyes leaked saltwater
while reading The Cay.

I learned to dance from Gord Downie;
I learned poetry from Bono.
I pick mentors like I pick party food:
gotta be quirky and falling off the map.

While I’m talking about food,
let me open up this tasty can of worms:
I seem to deal with my
emotions
only through movies and music and
poetry.
Maybe that’s why I blow through
two plus movies a week,
and have music wired directly into my head.
Doesn’t explain why poetry has eluded me
for three weeks in a row, though.

I’m dancing as hard as I can,
sweat falling off my eyebrows.
You try dancing to U2 and The Tragically Hip,
and you’ll see that grace has nothing to do with it.