One for the romantics.

Watching myself
estranged
through the eyes
of passerby
I,
get this question
all the time.
Why?
Why here?
Why this place?
Why not New York, or
somewhere far, far away –
the kid checking me in to
Planet Fitness doesn’t quite
understand why I’m here –
I know this because
I’ve been there, and there,
more places really than I care
Philadelphia, New York, San Diego
and what did I find?
People!
Yes
people,
glorious people,
who like I
wished to know why?
We romanticize
the lives that are not ours.

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A cow is a cow is a cow.

I get stomach aches all the time now.
Why now, brown cow?
Reading the Bollard
Ads filled with typo’s
Who writes these things anyhow?
Not I
Not now.
You know, brown cow.
Even I, get stomach aches all the time now.

Dire times as these.

In times like these
when nothing is longer shocking
than the president’s next tirade,

what more is there to write,
what more is there to speak of?

In such dire times as these
write more about love, it’s amazing, really
that love can exist,

in such dire times as these.