glad like

I’m glad like
trucks and ponds;
like buildings sprawling
endlessly toplessly upwards;
like recollections turned inward
and popping like good ol’ fireworks. I’m glad

like a fist
of pure Coca-Cola,
turning the icy tide of refreshment
in a do-or-die case of lunchtime.
I’m glad

like dueling snakes,
fish and waterfowl in some
kind of macabre free-for-all, touted
to the rafters selling tickets all week, but
the crowds turn up to roar, only
to see how
these innocent creatures
mind their own business
as usual!!

It’s hard to describe gladness
by comparison.
You end up
lodged
in all sorts
of too-specific,
out-of-the-way
places, and 

no less glad, maybe

but feels kind of stupid
for describing 

it all weird