for the poets of pittsburgh ought 6

all my heroes don't give a fuck
they laugh at all the wrong moments
cry at all the right ones
and dance everywhere like you can't
find freedom outside loose limb flying.

all my heroes say exactly what's on their mind
whenever the mood strikes hot
pour out their most intimate tragedies
and delirious sexcapades without a beat
unmediated by microphones beer bottles
and if they break hearts or bruise egos
and everyone gets up and walks out disgusted
the more power to them.

all my heroes ask how are you doing
and expect an honest answer
not just "oh good, you?"
they wear armor around their private hearts
but aren't afraid to take it all off
when push comes to love.
they wear glitter and dresses in public
and shine around the edges of normalcy.

all my heroes are assholes, ghosts
and self proffesed deitites who read Ayn Rand
but didn't buy the bullshit. Dagney Taggart
was a bitch but she didn't compromise her line
for anyone, they were all just grey fading.

all my heroes are on drugs or in asylums
or crushed by poverty and boredom or dead
young but didn't let that stop them
wore their fingers raw to rub out
genius in a few aching lines
of explanation no one ever understood
cuz it was never about that.

all my heroes live in attics and let
their dreams stray onto the roof tops
with the cats hunting pigeons for fresh air.
they talk to old men in bars break all
the laws let themselves be crucified
by their peers never apologize for doing
whatever they want and coming back
to do it again and again.

all my heroes don't give a fuck
and when I believe in them
neither do I.