The Faux Pas Press #119: Ode to Crazy Good

The Faux Pas Press #119

Ode to Crazy Good

to Miss Eleanore Cinerama

by Jason Fresh

I thought today I would write poems, or a curse, or a clever verse reaching deep into the pockets of a good woman's purse. But I decided instead to lay bare the device, to think not only once but twice upon the avarice that has become my solitude. I think it has become my choosing. And while I want you to think it is good, I can not force it. So long I've waited, and waited for a new future, a future gold-platted in the fond opinions and glances. I've not seen them. For in doing absolute good, absolutely good, all the time, one finds himself on the South side of a poets cry. According to The Prince, it is impossible to do total good all the time, even for good men like you or I, for in doing so, one finds himself in shit with not-so-good people. It would be nice to be good, nice to do what good boys should, if the glances of Eleanore don't hail me than another ugly bitch could, I'd prefer to choose not 'good' but 'crazy good'.

'Crazy good' means standing in the way of your sneer, looking deeply into the eyes of unintelligible human counterparts and asking the unanswerable question. Why? It means driving aimlessly across town to find the hottest of hot spots where volcano pushes up through pavement onto a city canvass, onto bleeding poetry, crying blood onto the souls of Hawaii. It means I don't have to be your 'good' or her 'good' or any one's fucking 'good'. "Do you think I should vote in the Republican Primary Elections? Oh, I think you should? Do you support Mitt Romney or Ron Paul? (I support the latter by the way. Romney? Hell no. Ron Paul. I said I support the latter not the latter-days.) But after all is mined in brass and wood, I think I'll choose the other fellow, that Darth Sidious-looking motherfucker hiding beneath the hood."

I'm Crazy Good - not aligned with any race except for the 2011 Honolulu Marathon held on the morning of 11 December this year. That is the marathon that will change every fiber, every fabric of who I am. What a beautiful commitment I've made. We'll see if I become sober and the halls turn to jade.

I miss the soldiers from the past and those from the future. It would be nice to see them again. I've got to pay a penance on Sunday. And I will.