#CertifiedUncool

The dragonflies of spring

live their languor days

A)

I look on a brilliant day

through my sore teeth,

sleepless eyes,

 and dirty window.

2B)

She writes poems of

smoke,

on the sky,

for the past,

strangers ,
and passer-by.

#AllGrownOld.

Grown old

in the eye of youth

my own

and around me;

not beside me

or myself

The city thrums

into an unknowable century

with 30 million passengers

Aboard.

Ah, spring and an old man's thoughts turn to: death.