At sixteen he was tired of being an adult
I’m too big for this shirt or shit he thought and retired
To the daycare of the streets somewhere
Along the way he’d have to find a position
Large enough so he could give out wealth
To those of his kind until there was nothing left
Only then would he be satisfied he’d fulfilled
The catholic mission that had taught him to read
And later feel while trashing cars with little to no fuss
Relying on the postal service as if it was a right
Dipping into social norms without fear
Scraping the mud from going off-road
Becoming fond of mangling things
When at ease racing trees to that favored spot
Which kept moving and preaching which was
Really just another stump telling him what to do
Every stranger a witness easily coerced
To leave town while he calmly stayed