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Bad People

A man told me once that all the bad people

Were needed. Maybe not all, but your fingernails

You need; they are really claws, and we know

Claws. The sharks—what about them?

They make other fish swim faster. The hard-faced men

In black coats who chase you for hours

In dreams—that’s the only way to get you

To the shore. Sometimes those hard women

Who abandon you get you to say, “You.”

A lazy part of us is like a tumbleweed.

It doesn’t move on its own. Sometimes it takes

A lot of Depression to get tumbleweeds moving.

Then they blow across three or four States.

This man told me that things work together.

Bad handwriting sometimes leads to new ideas;

And a careless god—who refuses to let people

Eat from the Tree of Knowledge—can lead

To books, and eventually to us. We write

Poems with lies in them, but they help a little.