So, you know,
just how far some thoughts go, sown

I use scents and potions, and write,
and maintain basic,
rudimentary sanitation, orderly mindstate;

but that is not so I can say so, no,

I do not know why it is, but on the streets,
I blend in,
I belong right.
--- in any city I appear the ***.

Not here, indeed, a breeze asks no entrance,

I hear my grandson,
next for puberty, in this life,
whistling, not tunefully, but casually,
hearing himself whistle bits of someday songs,

as he does his Saturday screen free time.