Old Soul

There are bottles and food containers and everything is empty

over the counter

because nothing in the house is brand new.

All the liquor is gone through the air in a long process of

evaporation.

I get to think that if my brain was not enclosed by the skull

I would see it going the same way into the air

and then condensate in the ceiling forming some grey impregnated

matter which actually does not matter to most

once that what it does is overthink

and overcalculate

and judge others’ music taste.

I’ll be damned if I get to accept what they call music nowadays

with all that electronical predictable bip bips.

They call me an old soul

because

I can keep my mouth shut when everybody else is talking nonsense.

Cheap talk

short thinking

shallow waters

what a great spectacle it is to live among my peers.

Tonight I will not pray, I will not say any profanity

but I will be once again glad for the chance

to call this

planet

this place

this

era

home