The good ole days were enjoyed with ease,
There was less to enjoy because of disease;
There were fewer people to dress and feed
Thanks to childhood mortality.


The middle-class were few and greedy,
Thanks to needs and poverty;
We could find work and be employed,
But tenure turned to workplace injury.

Illiteracy was common,
Innumeracy, our fate,
Due to the high school drop out rate.

Polio and smallpox kept in check
The burgeoning growth of the unelect.

Minorities knew their social place;
Jim Crow was voting in black face.

Heteros ruled the ****** race,
Alphabet people were an outlier trace.

In summer and winter we were outplayed and beat,
With no Air Conditioning nor Central Heat.

Let's leave the past in the past,
Where history belongs;
Where hunger and sickness
Lasted all life-long,
And the poor and ignorant
Were subdued by the strong.

We can agree times were simpler then,
As time came rushing to an end.

It is not cosy
in my bodyhome, sweating
on the bed, I stretch out wide

to an X
(value unknown)
to cool down

but there is no wind
and the air is damp
with sorrow for my fate

and with fear that this is the last
I am able to sustain, that
thereafter, it will be too bad

(I'm not sure what -
  sometimes it is too dark
  then again the light shines too bright)

I need space and breath
to fight, I am a fighter
in my head and my belly

surrounded, constricted
and suffocated, plenty of air
but not for me?

Stings and cramps
for the danger, the gong rings
(for a new round)

An elevator

full of weal and woe, up and --


down in my sick head.

I have bawled and shouted
stamped my feet
blamed God my mother
AND the universe
but I'm still here
spoilt petulant little spec
on a blue green planet
infinity never heard me
or gave a ****
about a small ape like creature
spinning around
and around
at a thousand miles an hour
going nowhere
it's time to take
the bitter little pill
and just get on with it

My room: a waste bin,

chair, chamber ***, and myself --


tossing in my bed.

Can people still have a discussion with me?
I can confront you
with my falter
That searching, the slow
which I can hardly bear myself?
And what do you think of me?

I'm getting smaller, too small
for everything and everyone
I know, more and more
is falling off my world
Dependent on friends
who need me

So nothing seems to have changed
but it's not like that
not the way it was
not what I was worth
I know too well what it is
to endure the day depressed

It may take a long time
that I'm not there for a while
Lost in unreachable thoughts
until I sound again like
I'm doing better
than I'm telling you