he has little intuition for birds
leave alone the butterflies
is blind to a cat’s stealth
and the sad look in a dog’s eyes
---
he is an interior person
opens the door of his house
only on steamy summer evenings
for the breeze from the sea to waft in
---
ever since he has taken up
this broadband connection
he has left the idiot box
and watches only buffered news
---
he is an unapologetic bachelor
with a lot of false starts and promises
goes for lonely walks and writes poetry
imitating bukowski without a typewriter
---
reading the Myth of Sisyphus
he asks himself an existential question
why does he not contemplate suicide
living a nothing life as he is
---
he dreams up a reason that
he wants to marry one day and
he wants to tell his daughter someday
the story of his false starts and promises
----
