Dennis Mantin

Rich man drives a taxi.

Poor man drives a Ford.

But my old man goes down the street.

With 4 wheels on a board.

He was grey and old, sitting slumped, looking over his bi-focals in his comb over, complaining to another streetcar passenger about the good Ole days before all the Polish people moved out of Ronchaisvailles for Mississauga.

I tried to imagine him as a younger man and failed. It was like when I was young. I saw older people as being like that always. Like they were born that way.

When do they get that comfortable? I never have. I am probably older than he is now…

I stay silent and write in the still center while the world spins around me.

We were so loud & opinionated in the storm of youth before the calm of fat & grey…

I hope I live long enough to hear the quiet roar of this internet lot in their post advice phase.

Nothing new going on here.

All the answers to those mysteries.

The ones I thought you’d never get.

They wondered in and out of time.

Like some spirits placed a bet.

I just guessed it looked quite funny?

By the way that you laughed and fled.

Never once did I make you look.

I just judged you all instead.

I thank you here for the nothing.

Seems so superior to a curse.

And stupid is as stupid does.

Really don’t know which is worse…

I woke up from the big sleep.

Just in time I might retire.

Not knowing what thoughts to keep

I just tossed it all to fire.

Still remembered all confusion.

From a place they called the schools.

All humiliations and intrusions.

From the masters and the fools.

I cashed in all the betting slips.

Left for the coast with her at dawn.

A plane, a wait and then some ships.

Arrived at sand. The moon it shone.

I’m not looking for those answers.

I don’t expect that they are here.

Just a smile from quiet dancers.

Nighttime rains and daytime clear.

I could be one of you.

However, I chose not.

Don’t know what you have.

But I do know what I’ve got.

You see I have the peace.

Stranger peace of mind.

Never own, just lease.

Such gold, a finders find.

Searching, learning, no cease.

End game, no game in kind.

I could be one of you.

However, I choose not.

Don’t know what you need.

I just know of what I’ve got…

“All my former friends are feminists!”