The Man is lying naked.
This filthy pavement is his abode.
The Man is emaciated and famishing.
And he never begs for alms,
Proud and conceited.
The road is busier than ever.
No one takes interest in him.
No one catches a glimpse at him.
And a few feign not having seen him at all.

The time fleets on, the cars move on,
The Man is lying naked.

At the first blush, far from being a beggar
Is the Man.
He is well-complexioned with big glamorous eyes.
His face is sleek and his hair shines against
The lustrous sunbeams.
His eyes are gleeful, but mournful is his heart.
Penniless though, his craving for gold is sheer.
He ogles at the gold brought by the people around.
But he never begs for alms,
Proud and conceited.
Then someone nears him and asks who he is.
After much vacillation, he dismisses his taciturnity.
“Mankind is my name”, he replies.

The time fleets on, the cars move on,
The Man is lying naked.

When autumn comes
Trees become exhibitionists
Shaking off their clothes
Standing proud in the rain
The increasing cold
Matched by an increasing nakedness

While humans plunder wardrobes
Nature strips itself off
Back to the essence
Of what autumn means
That Fall is the fall
Of the empire of pretense

So I cannot pretend
And clutch on summer’s façade
And hide under the foliage
Of warmth and joy
I must let the rain
Wash away my pretense
And I’ll humbly lay myself bare
Amidst nature’s nakedness

Naked eye,
silent sorrounded heart.

what's that sound?
elderly and ancient crown
from a spirit beyond recognition.

a vast dark room
comfortable crouching,
no hope,
no light,
yet he takes a glance into my soul.

Naked eye,
he sees through me
directly to my soul
his silence seems to claim;

"poor pretentious soldier",
"come home",
"come home"...

I remember you like a famous brachiosaur, ensconced in the terrible street lamps of west county apartment block row. That swaying bronze gate to your three flat two room apartment. Skinny legs for the couch, the backroom bedroom, and the bunk beds in the master suite. We studded me for excellent squeeze; one trident pull switching time against a baited lock. "I'll swallow you whole," you brushed off into my ear while I passed your cheek with my lips, braising your skin with dew drops of our rushes and sweat. Even for April this was alright. Your brother had already moved out, and listening to Hall and Oates and going fishing was all you wanted to do. So I made us two root beer floats with Almond Milk ice cream, and settled into you for five hours and forty-five minutes. It was before 5:00a.m. when you turned to the night and spilled the last ounces of your naked body out to me beneath the satin sheets. I pressed my lips hard against your nose and whispered I'd be leaving soon. Still I do not recall if I woke you when I left, but I remember that next day when you questioned if I had.