the clock smiles
and it is a sad smile

and coming through an open window
tiny red eyes on dainty feet
scurries around
the 4 corners of my prison  

where the dice roll
but never fall

 so,

hold on,

st christopher
former saint
taken off the calendar

O lost angel
guardian angel

say a prayer for me,

and like the shadows
thrown by the corner boys
as sunset approaches

i'll follow you down

into the tall
grass
where the lions wait
for wounded
dreamers

can you spare
a little faith???

O, st christopher

I ve been locked up
way too long
in this crazy world

please.

tell me.

how far is heaven?

the old boy
wakes up three hours ahead of
the world that lives in concrete buildings
and one hour ahead of the
competition
and emerges from his damp tent

looks around the park
looks at the sky

Overcast

He stretches a bit and scratches his
head
and walks over to the fountain
and has a drink

collects some mint leaves
chews on them
spits
and rinses his mouth

The work clothes are already on him
Boots
two pairs of socks
cotton and wool
faded jeans
a shirt
a sweater
and coat over them
mittens
and a cap that covers his ears as well

It's now time to set about
collecting tin cans around the neighborhood
to make just enough for
a meal and a half
and maybe a few cigarettes sold
individually

It's been
enough years for all this to become
routine
When you don't know of any better you
don't expect any better

And now he only did this to have just enough
energy and life force to
visit the public library and
read heart warming poems

Today I am finding shade under the leaves of a 🌲 🌲 🌲
                       TREE

these roots I cut dawn a long ago 💀💀💀💀🌳🌳🌳🌳🌴🌴🌴🌲