out of the clearing there is a feeling that there is a sense of importance, significance, discovery and thoughts, loss, lost

Elders love to bestow their bits of wisdom, constantly thrown about in a heap of dry vulgarity, coated with a candy normalcy, listening to their own ideology, go about your way, go about your way and we, youth are forced to listen and to agree or disagree and explain, and because disagreeing requires too much work and we are polite, we nod in agreement
but the elder doesn't realize they are taking something crucial from the youth , as they embark their little remarks, each one weighing heavily on the soul, weight like water on top of the tarmac, absolutely overwhelming

and the youth goes to bed and lays down and lets it all sink in and that is that, until one day they are older themselves and they go on purging everything before they leave themselves

It's a vicious cy le and in a lot of ways I'm glad it broke with my dad, who never told me how to live my life in any way

stories are told and are supposed to preach some kind of a lesson, but how many lessons do we really need?  How much before the levi breaks and it all spills over...I sit here and ponder

I ponder at a pub in astoria queens, drunk, realizing that I am doing a lot more listening than I thought previously, the bartenders joke about tips, while everyone else sits with their phones dreaming of new ways to live, drink drink drink to that.  Starry eyed, a worry, human, and breathing, just drinking drinking drinking, and thinking about this and that

I sit here and ponder
on the subway now
of stories that I've heard
with good guys and bad guys
and grey in between
and death hanging in the balance
between right and wrong


the ultimate punishment
Death

And I sit here
and ponder that
for a second
then I shrug
then look up at the people
minding their own
Friday evenings