I’ve been listening to the masses.

They be trying to bring me down.

I’ve been taking master classes.

Ever since the blues dropped into town.

They are talking about oppression.

Like, it’s shiny and brand new.

So much horror in that lesson.

That ironic cake to chew.

They are raging, eyes are blurry.

Tears they fall like April rain.

Going nowhere in such a hurry.

Like they just discovered pain.

I’ve been looking for a chorus. That won’t break us into songs. Maybe something just to bore us. Take our rights back from the wrongs…

I remembered everything dramatic until I didn’t. I let that shit go, which is a monumental gift.

However, I  remember certain individuals from my childhood who, at the time, I thought were unreasonably cruel. Now I realize they were just human. Nothing more or less. So, to those people that I criticized on the eastcoast!,

“All Apologies!”

In the city downtown, people travel in the tube with their heads bowed; many are wearing headphones: hardly anyone makes eye contact.

I only come downtown for the necessities; passports and doctors. Today, both are on the menu.

Sidewalks are under construction. Bathrooms are closed for repairs. The melting pot has melted.

Getting past the receptionist is the unknown in a world of unknowns. I make it to the doctor who greets me warmly and agrees to sign my daughter’s passport.

They will call when it’s ready. No one has to tell me not to hold my breath. I stay quiet and think of more pedestrian times.

Dennis Mantin

I was attracted by her beauty.

Even read the things she wrote.

In her diary of private thoughts.

She said I wouldn’t get her vote.

I feel no guilt or shaming.

Even if somehow I got caught.

Don’t care about your feelings.

Because I know you can be bought.

There’s a quiver in the ether.

A faint hint of rich fresh air.

I will use this little breather.

Just to plan and scheme and stare.

You said you wanted feelings.

With a longing for deep truth.

You said you wanted Superman.

He’s on a cellphone by the booth.

He said he doesn’t like you.

He’s not into girls no more.

We are living in a brand new world.

And I’m by the exit door.

Too much fat is on my belly.

Walking slow, with joints some swell.

My story’s told, all show no telly.

All alone with shrugs… oh well.

The stress is gone. Not overwhelming.

Alzheimers cure, fresh storytelling.

Flashbacks pure, remember, yelling.

Not alone with shrugs… oh well.

I’m getting old. I’m bowed and ready.

My hand has fold. On trigger steady.

Eyes still true. My aims still deadly.

Happiness is a warm memory.

Les McElroy told me just before hanging up the phone, “Mind your own business!”

This is the best advice I have ever been given.

Later, the addendum was, “And get to know what your business is…”

Your circle can get small when you mind your own business. You stop trying to save the world. You become smaller to right sized.

I watch these justice warriors today and wonder whether they will ever be told or how long their careers will be, and then I remember…

It’s none of my business.

I was broke at the beginning.

In the middle was just bent.

On the horizon is the ending.

And the kid was heaven sent.

All tallied, I owe nothing.

There are demons at the door.

And I sleep with peace descending.

No regrets or want for more.

I left the road for; I don’t know…

I just can’t remember what.

There was something about a bungalow.

Where all doors were sealed shut.

Saw some things you can’t unsee.

Still, others’ beauty froze.

The businessmen were gripped by need.

Put the profits up their nose.

Down trodden are filled with sorrow.

Don’t know which wolf to feed.

To survive? Beg, steal, or borrow.

Some say love is all you need.

I fell out of love by mid-day.

The snow was white and fast.

There was crunching in the footsteps.

All the praise for cold had passed.

I was huddled with my cafe cream.

I was braced at distant storm.

Then I remembered that you weren’t here.

Once again, my heart did warm.

All is quiet here at mid-day.

Had my fill of sleep and dreams.

The plot was holding true to form.

Not a thing is as it seems.

We all smile for masks and photos…

Except the ones who care no more.

They stand screaming in the shadows.

Outside the corner coffee store.

The poverty is crippling.

The addictions sing and dance.

Me, I’m with my baby.

Keeping quiet, Second Chance.