I see them in the alley, smoking cigarettes and drinking beer as a sliver of sunlight stretched through the maples to greet them.

I had my time, long passed through the mists of time; not much sunlight stretched there. No more judgments from me for them or me. I’m just doing things differently now…

I tuned her guitar today and got new strings. She called from the bus to ask if that got done and smiled when I said “yes”

Maria smiled at me as I passed her in the alley and said, “Say hello to your daughter for me.”

An hour before daybreak.

I was dreaming something, I forgot.

Or maybe I’m just refusing.

To get up and take the shot.

There was screaming in the distance.

For a sun that’s going to rise.

It seems like sad resistance.

I think I’ll try to close my eyes…

They look soft, seated on public transit. Staring into their phones on the way to the ballgames, pretending not to notice the children and elderly standing…

I have taken

Have not forsaken

So much more than I can use.

Blaming needy.

Just plain old greedy.

What’s that thing that weepers lose?

Finders keepers

Losers weepers.

Can’t be the drinkers. It’s the booze.

I have stolen.

Fat purses swollen.

I’m not losing, I refuse!

I finished off the story.

They are talking love and geeks.

No weakness, gains, or glory.

In this world of circus freaks.

Oly, Al, and Chickadee.

Crystal Lil, the simese twins.

Arturo has his madness.

And his groupies and his fins.

I’m kinda glad it’s over.

Cause it’s summertime outside.

I’ll be rolling in the clover.

Too much time was spent inside…

I see her in The Dream.

We are both crying, and we are younger.

I knew I’d never see her again and how I knew I didn’t know, I just knew.

Yet, 45 years later, she is still with me… Somewhere in The Dream.

I don’t cry anymore, Debbie. I get angry and express myself; sometimes I write. I never hold it in. I let it out. I think I miss you…

Dennis Mantin

It is drama in the kitchen.

Exaggeration on the phone.

Silence in the bedroom.

Until we are all alone.

It is drama all this bitchin.

Humiliation… no atone.

Beauty is just skin deep.

And Ugly goes to the bone.

Having thoughts lots about dying.

And other things that I don’t know.

Its not the fear that’s got me down.

Just that I don’t want to go.

Now sure I know I have no choice.

Has been made abundant and clear.

This transformation is all the rage.

I just kinda like it here.

I hear all this complaining.

What’s wrong about this and that.

You never really stood a chance.

With an attitude like that.

I recognized my nature.

Not much was steeped in good.

There was this strange sensation.

Like maybe I just should.

Forget it all and start a new.

Take the narrow view to wide.

Take my head out from my ass.

And maybe look outside.

Not all is gain or glory.

Not all is pain and strife.

The road the path the choices made.

It’s a wild ride this life.