Should I fake my joy?

should I fake my joy for
I don’t want to hurt
others when they come around for
it’s my birthday, and I’m supposed to
laugh and dance and
love, but it’s so hard to
fake with this hanging over my
head; they won’t like it if I
sulk,

are they my friends?
for they try to cheer me up
and tell me how great I am.

Afternoon Musing

Cicadas laugh
while God moves furniture upstairs–
the rain cometh
and the grass remains un-mowed.
Light of noon woke this boxer-clad vagrant,
no breakfast–lunch at three after
watching Flynt advocate free speech;
sickened by market images,
will I be another stylist?
hiding cooks and dishwashers in kitchens,
waitresses in front, fronting for the bottom line
of living: “I just work here”–
jaded by day to day cataclysms.
Yeah, and I just survive here on this rock.