July 2005 / Volume Six / Issue Four
C. Allen Rearick
FUCK YOU NIETZSCHE, YOU WERE RIGHT

The stars looked
dark and heavy
as did our aspirations
for the evening

we were 18
in search
of the holy grail

and later that night
we thought we had
found it

24 of them
to be exact
all yahooed
from the corner
clark gas station

and as we sat drinking
down on the trax
at jasper park

we felt like real men
like unstoppable gods
with a purpose
to recreate our world
so we left those desperate trax
in search of our own pantheon

we drove
and drove
until we stopped
at some seedy
low-down strip joint
not far from brookpark road

as good as any a place
for gods to congregate
we figured

and after a few drinks
and a few dollars lost
we were satisfied
we were transformed
we were one
with all the other gods

so we up and left
and went home

bringing back with us
something unforeseen– 

faces
of men cast out of heaven
the destitute millions
dying to be saved
the fires of everyday life
burning in our blood
to never be forgotten

and nearly
10 years later
I can still feel it
mapping the outlines
of our futures

the sadness
the depression
the gaunt eyes
starring dead-end jobs
in the face
like sailors
boarding ships
they know are bound
for certain doom

and maybe nietzsche had it right
because
the gods that we once were
have since died
some time ago
and no longer seem to be
and we are the ones
who have killed

them.
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