Walking sticks for a modern age
Skateboard shoes to mark my rage
Undercover mainstream tax-paying yellow belly
Forgetting at all to remember my age


Taking for granted the walking and talking
I kiss the rig of gods and
Try to put aside speculation of
Variants of fate without much success

What would change?

Often I awake to new realities
In different places alone or
Trapped in the prisons of mind or body
Empathy to a degree of unbelievable proportions

A hot, persistent, dry wind
Under blue skies in places
Where our society has created
Drawers in which we can
Hide all that appears to be untidy


Steely persistence after all the tears