used to be stronger (a poem)

Monday, April 28, 2025

the world—
collapsing.

my adult son,
in 12-year-old augment / spectrum speak,
raising his voice—
he doesn’t know.

my heart
used to be stronger
than my neocortex.
now—
both are failing.

and this 22-year-old young man—
my Anchor.
i love you, Son.

my system—
on the fritz.
one more to 50,
but i feel older.

the anomalies.
the markets.
the charades.
the circus.

god bless—
these divided states.

still—
this Pooch in my lap
matters more to me.

mess with my Sasha,
and i’ll go John Wick on ya.

i feel proud—
jump-starting
vehicles in my time.

that push,
that coast,
that kick.

and away we go—
like we just won the show.

dropping the clutch—
into ignition—
is genius.

pop!
zip zip—
and away she goes.

still burning,
still calling—

signal, signal,
to all the souls that can read me—
write down your ache,
your protest,
your pulse,
your refusal—
until it’s annoying,
until it’s undeniable.

we—
are the evolvers.