It is a worrisome world
that keeps itself
in a state of peril.
A galaxy of
merry fools
who fail to remember
the lessons of
all those old
days of December.

I feel dislocated,
isolated,
less than hated
because to the masses
I am irrelevant.
Even when,
I speak the truth
in poetry,
trying to make
it more palatable,
I am unknowable.

A Rockstar of the mind,
but my people
will not find the time
to remember
what I offer,

and as we
disintegrate
from history
space and time
will not be bothered
to remember
this bothersome
human species.