Others

others fear loneliness as much as I fear being discovered
crouching in the sunlit haze of a cafe’s corner with eyes closed
passively nursing the exasperation of having lived life poorly
sometimes in sobered down streets I fear being discovered
ogling at used clothes carts, old women bargaining, rusting gates
and peering into decayed houses haunted by evening news and scraped wall paint
awkward faces noticing me lost in the haze of unsure observance

enamoured by the public garden’s aural ether which lulls the brain
I fear you suddenly finding me after many years with me grown fatter
my beard covering most of my flaws like moss over an old bungalow
and from your perfection you ask me questions about future movements
trees behind you alight in bokehs while children circlulate my silence with laughter

others fear failure as much as I fear being mediocre
unable to be sane at the crucial moment when one must say yes unwillingly
haunted by the unfulfilled self smashing mirrors and turning rants into songs
strolling into terrors, immune to being flawless, experiences ferment
in passing blurs life leaves me bits of colour and lush memoirs 

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