THE OLD MAN

Ahoy, old man sitting on the park bench
Pond ripples watching stretch so slow

Tired nervous eyes rolling
Scenes to catch
That keep unfolding

In the filthy park
Clowns tap-dance
Unchanging music plays

Your blistered lips try to pray
Will and habit serpentine love make
Ahoy, old man. Don't you fray?

Where your mind has been crawling?
Stumbling, grunting, lies eloping

Frozen your beard, as you stroke it.
Each haunted stroke, a shiver breeds
Creepy memories hunt joy and rape it
This loop indifferent to your needs

Early chirp of every morning
Ugly sound of terrors calling
Grasp that cane and wave it high
Point them out, will they hide?

Can you feel that slight trembling?
Tremor, quake kind of sembling
Through your soles, your body reaching
Freezing touch, ominous tickling?

It must be that cursed machine
Your whole life have been hearing
Grinding, munching, distant screeching
Always on. Never ever stopping.

Forms and presences revolting
Through your sight sending strolling
Ever clear. Ever present.
Thumping, thumping, underground rolling.

In the park, serene debauchery reigns
Mean machine your life clays
Tap your feet, take the pains
A band of clowns unchanging music plays
Grinding, munching, thumping
Life decays