On the FRINGE of the B contour

So finally
I know
what the problem
has been
all this time

The signal's
not strong enough
there's no
external antennae
the receiver is
generally fucked up
or something is fucked up

His words rang out
like some
absurd truth
"You're on the fringe of the
B contour"

Yeah, I shoulda
known
I'm on the fringe
of something
on the fringe
in the frey
on the fraying edge
and falling apart

But now
this is too much
an old (and boring) one
a blind (and dumb) one
an unkept (and insecure) one
an unavailable one (without insight)
and then the unfaithful one
(with boldness) rears
his ugly head again

And I'm listening
seeking
yielding
and sensing
so the reception
can clear
the picture can
come into focus

I'm ready now
for the happy part
the poems
full of love
passion
tendreness
and ecstatic epiphanies
but maybe
insight and focus
come in the
unclear
dirty images
maybe happiness
is the noise that
clouds and crowds out
the clarity