I'm just a raving madman,

Though my diatribe is

Silent, internal.

Sometimes vocalized

On the lips,

To confuse the passersby,

Who think the words are for them

To trip over,

Staring back,

(As though I am in need of

Consultation!)

As I rail against the world eternal.

My briefness here is

Measured in cigarette butts

And coffee cups.

My flirtations with sense

Scuffed along the edges,

Like burnt puff pastry are

The lukewarm insolence,

I display to the norm,

As I meander the glooming,

In the twilight of my evening.

My briefness here is

Measured in cigarette butts

And coffee cups.

I swagger the streets,

Looking outside boxes

Of the pavement beneath,

I can swagger unafraid

Of the cracks in the street.

Trying to contemplate

Life's directions,

With no less than a stick,

A blindfold and a

Far distant Piñata.

My briefness here is

Measured in cigarette butts

And coffee cups.