Sometimes it’s OK to look bad—
such as when you open your mouth to sing at a party.
It means you showed
up, anyhow, and didn’t just stand
there like some big smarty-
pants who’d never allow themselves to look bad,
staring down the barrel of the sad
truth, their own dirty
face now showing
its true shit-colors. How could
anyone get to like you if you’re not a bit scratchy?
People won’t forget that you sounded bad,
true, but it’s just pay for the wad
of tunes you sawed out of the goodness of your heart.
Your comportment shows
that you care, at least, however odd
you look, nine years past sixty.
It’s to your credit that you looked bad
and your stuffing showed.
