Normally this time of year there are rows of grapevines...

I grin when I think about it
96 Tears
Alternating between
Desperately seeking sources of income
And indulging in unhinged sex
So numb at the time that it only comes back in flashes
Phantom limb memories
That make me smile

Undressing
Blue pants and a white camisole
The kitchen counter
Cooking book for height
Going to the library to look for a job
Be right back
No money for the internet connection
You wrote me a check that I never repaid
So I could pay the rent

96 Tears that plays in the background
And now I smile to myself
Like someone in a coffee commercial
Before you change the channel
And the memory is gone
To return when the synapse fires
When I need that limb

Every staunch idealist
Has to cower in front
Of a monetary unit
A clutch of survival
Even myself

Young
Like still enjoying parades
Still being blown back by fireworks
Yeah pick it all up later
All kinds of punches

Old
Like not listing favorite music anymore
Like not filling out quizzes in anticipation of someone filling it out too
Sharing less of myself
Less inclined to speak
More inclined to listen
Pissed off at becoming wise
The wise crumble under their own hubris
Not sure what to do
With all this age
It is in fist
Less inclined to punch