I. Andante




can’t keep my eyes open any longer lingering down the streets








but I keep pretending and my feet do too.


Up and down and you know I perambulate


bottles, cig butts and food; I keep on


moving the whole night, another whole night long.






Turns out that at times I get lucky


but there are those rainy nights


I leave downtown without food.




At times I feel when I sink down on a stone


been enough, been enough for me.


Please, world let me out, I am all over


and I sing my swan’s song so:




Buried in the quicksand of my past


I slowly drown away, away swims


my will, my mind, my soul


it drowns in the quicksand of my memories


fading away.




The time for fights has past.


Past glories pass away, it’s


maybe bad poetry but


maybe life has been too bad


poetry for me and it is


time for tuning out.