I am self-conscious
In both senses of the term
Diffident though I love to be on exhibition
An exhibitionist
But unsure of himself always second guessing
Always craving approval
But
Also always attending upon
The prompts of consciousness
Nay of conscience
Hence self-aware but not in the Delphic sense
Of knowing oneself
But
Rather in the mundane sense of hearing always
The interruptions of the chattering critic
The portable peanut gallery
The assembly of the naysayers
The homuncular prosecutor
The tyrannous implant
And hence self-castigating self-condemning
Self-loathing self-abnegating self-destroying
Self self self self self self self
But
Not self-correcting or self-denying
Never got into that mortification of the flesh jazz
Though my thoughts often turn to the mortality of the self
And often of a deliberate mortality
But
I feel great compassion for others
Castigating myself for the self-aggrandizement of that claim
Nevertheless I believe it for I am struck
At how I wince at the signs of suffering
Even as I tilt toward punishing myself
As I would never wish another punished
Even unto death
One time a petting zoo landed
In the parking lot of the supermarket
That many years later turned into an immense bar
Where I used to perform
And I was a bit old for a petting zoo
Maybe eleven or twelve
But
I loved animals
Or more precisely I loved animal species
And I had the excuse of my little brother
Seven or eight
And I saw a little boy with black curly hair
Addressing a pygmy goat
And when I looked again
The boy was on hands and knees
And crying and I felt so sad
That the little goat had assaulted him
Not resentful of an injustice
But just that one little guy
Had knocked down another little guy
And then I saw the braces on the boy’s legs
Polio was still not eradicated
And Jerry’s kids on display each Labor Day
A parent came by and helped him up
And my heart ached for the little family
And people need to think I thought
About those who are small
And in my self-absorption then
I took the thought no further
But I remember thinking or rather feeling
I want to care
Not I do care or I know I care
But
To cause suffering as by punishment
That is a bad thing
Than which perhaps none worse
And it’s a good thing to take suffering upon oneself
That another might be relieved
But this urge to punish oneself
That’s bad