The streets are full of drunk folks
Searching for their voice and ‘smoke’
Stretching lights, and empty pockets
Blurred lines and glaring streetlamps

Lovers break free — in hopeless longing;
Searching for their land
Unending streets, cats on tin roofs in dark alleys
Willows creaking; come the dead howls of lost friends

Boys swaying around in wound up jazz bars;
Looking for kicks
Drinking hemlocks
Losing money, shame — and identities

Sitting alone on lonely benches
Reflecting on our lost chances
Not regretting
While languid hours pass
Make peace with yourself

Girls hanging out, giggling, swagging
Notgivingashit and whispering
Swinging on old ragged music
Getting high on Miles, Waits and Morrison

——

What difference can a little boy make?
Seeing within the Heart of Darkness
Shuddering, clutching and crumbling
Over the empty past and a harsh future

Values lost —
Or forgotten
As the world suffers delusion
We are searching for our music

Wandering in an abandoned town
Looking for his ‘blues’ —
This man is becoming of you;
As you are becoming of him

Where are the blues taking us?
Here, there, and everywhere
Into the shallow streets, hollow trees
Over the tents and half-burnt paintings —
everywhere

Into the kitchen
Filled with gas and a gasping Plath girl
While her children sleep
In another room

————
Bielefeld; 2016-6-13

photo: glasgow city center, dec 2023

"breakfast is ready" he called.

still not used to sleepless nights since their love child was born.

this photo of the event hall and restaurant "kungsportshuset" in gothenburg, sweden evoked a sense of timelessness while strolling through the inner city. it was a brisky april afternoon and the sun was peeking through the clouds above - just enough to get a sense of summer past the heels of spring.

am i glad that i skipped that session at the history conference that day? was it worth it? absolutely!