Boomer-natural, we are as rare as any form of man,
in America,
perhaps it is different in other places, but
here, on the edge of pre-Covid civilization,
the ragged edge,
straight left, ragged right,
defiant of all constraints forced on thought by any letter
system letting thought exchange occur at the deep
meaningful level only words loosed
to end
and begin lines of lines occurring to you as if rhyme
were requisite for your most exquisite expressions
of hot and lukewarm gasses,
this, too, passes.
_ Yes we. The many minds we use to judge the better
angels
of our nature, we the old, leaving less than intended,
but more than enough, to leave time the chance
to heal all things, or cease being at all.
Time is no more
what we thought it was then than it is now.
To be happy pursuing happiness, might be a
an exercise in godliness.
aha ha ha
like laugh therapy to recover from primal screaming
grandchildren
popping in with wee tiny ideas about how
bees see to sting.
They fly **** first, Grandpa. How?
Not the richest man in the world could waste paper and ink like me, if I did this for fun fifty years ago.
