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March 29, 2023


all the voices of my youth now dead and gone ---
in neverending silence, kept alive only by

listening to scratchy records on an old phonograph

astrud gilberto whispering to me and only me now

I know she is…she’s still alive

or watching mostly black & white ghosts 

of films flashing in the darkness

emptying a bottle - again

staring at the scratched stale popcorn ceiling 

from my fake leather couch

water stains and cobwebs

fan twirling round and round like time passing itself

feeling sorry, not for myself so much

yeah, well maybe for myself

time passing is a bitch of the first water

I await sweet unconsciousness

no capacity to think - ponder - despise - mourn

about all that goes on …… goes on without me

-- I’m blissfully unaware and for the moment unconcerned

as now I lay sprawled on my unmade bed

in today’s and tomorrow’s clothes

the fan keeps turning