These fallen leaves
echo strange tragedies,
as roots rot, on the spot
and time’s fury does not
seem kind enough to stop.

Tiny green things, browning
and disintegrating,
as humans move to change
despite the desire to stay the same,
shedding memories like a lamb’s coat,
losing layers and layers to
our own frailty.
Mortality is the knife at our throat.

Fear is the thief of time,
and time is the rogue
who pilfers everything
we think we know or own.

The tree will go on but we won’t
leaves will come and go,
like the season’s melting snow
and all the rings inside the tree
will marks the passing of everything
including me.

Have you forgotten me,
the grey beard that lives nowhere,
hungry, and looking through
ash trays for some stray ****
with just enough tobacco
to get a hit of relief.

Awkward as hell,
occasionally, talking to myself
because nobody else
wants to even acknowledge me.

These are my city streets.
This is my cold hard concrete,
an indifferent existence
cause people go out of there way
to ignore my presence.

Slender man who scans
the eyes of strangers
for some opening,
so I can ask them
for a cigarette
or a couple of bucks to get
anything to eat.

Shoulders slumped,
back collapsing under the weight
of exhaustion, cause it’s getting late
and I don’t have a place to stay.

So, I stumble about till I find
the closest spot to safe where
I can sleep and no one there
will threaten or shoe me away.

Like groundhog’s day
I repeat, a shade of myself,
echoing just enough
to survive another night.

The algorithm we live in
has become the dumb
nightmare we’ve been given,

a constant flow of concessions,
sad contrivances to survive this
cog in the machine existence.

The fight seems pointless
with only minor bouts of resistance.
If history teaches us anything
it is only labor movements,
those unions that win men
woman and children
any real economic equality.

There won’t be any eulogy
for this lie we call democracy,
while men of prestige and property
have been constantly fighting
against those who bring the lightning
of enlightening insights about this fight.

Shrinking borders while expanding profits,
supporting fascists regimes,
whilst demolishing and reorganizing
governments that try socializing
their own country’s resources.

Our local war mongers
want to rehabilitate
the image that people hate
twist and change the slang,
rework and spin everything
over and over again
as the kings of what is truly Orwellian.

They are so close to destroying
the environment and
every human edifice,
every ounce of progress
in the name of
capitalistic measurements of success.

I got forty-one exhausting years
of lessons in my rearview mirror,
some harsh, some painful,
some pleasant, some shameful,
but I don’t think that I am able
to overcome that education.

I’ve heard that steady drumbeat
pounding out a lot of doubt,
interlaced with the face of desire,
and in my love or lust I’ve
let my heart be hopefully inspired.

The curve of her jaw line,
the sweater slowly rolling over her flesh,
the breath that rises and falls beneath
her *******; her dreams and thoughts,
I long to hear, willing to pay any cost
to hold my dear near and listen,
just listen to what she wants to share,

and *** of course, sweet *******
after and before our delightful discourse.

But with each rejection I have become divorced
from expectations and any patience
with potential lovers.

With each observation, seeing how people
hurt each other, how they smother
or abandon, I find I am done with them.

Angry at myself and those women,
seeing them chose someone else
and falling victim to the despair
that I find there when they decide
they prefer the violent guy.

So, I take my lessons and eat them,
love can just leave me be,
cause I will not join or beat ‘em

I live under the threat
of each thread
of my being untethering itself
from my flesh as my essence
is disincorporated,
and my memories are evaporated.
Until, this dilapidated
leathered skin caves in
succumbing to the bitter ending
of my futile existence.

Specifically,
this spectacular
visage you see
speaks melodiously
with an expansive vernacular.

Once my mind fell
into the swell
of waves rushing
and crushing
the shore, salty sea foam
swallowing everything, I've ever known.