Self Proclaimed

I’m the janitor sleeping at work
after tasting the floor polish
out of boredom.

I’m the lone guy at the bar
who is there from open to close
sweating out the beer as fast
as I drink it.

I’m the Zamboni driver
at the minor league hockey game
taking half full cans to the face
for not cutting the ice fast enough.

I’m the one spinning a knife
behind the wire fence
you see from the mouth
of the alley and decide
to take a different way.

I’m the blackjack dealer
that fucks you over royally
and waves away the waitresses
with the free drinks.

I’m the voice on the phone
offering a way out of your problems
for just a couple plastic numbers
you have so many of.

I am the body at the bottom of the lake
with the fish eaten eyes
no one ever finds.

I’m the asshole in the corporate
team building meeting
making sarcastic jokes
the rest are all afraid to.

I’m the border crossing guard
checking your passport
with my eyes closed.

I’m the bouncer breaking
skulls apart against
a dollar covered stage,

and I am rage.

I’m the lost teenager
with no clue what
they want out of America,

and I am also just an empty field
to fight in.