Old Dogs

MR. DARK


I'm not sure
from where it comes
this predilection
for the unlit
secluded
and quiet
corners of the world

maybe
it's my moody
and morose
Germanic heritage

maybe
it's a fear
of everything bright
crowded
and noisy

maybe
it's just
an excuse
to spend too much time
drinking in bars
and avoiding
people

whatever
the reason
I notice
that I'm not alone
and from coast to coast
border to border
I spot the members
of this fringe element
which the general public
tries to explain away
with neat tidy terms
such as alcoholics
misanthropes
and manic depressives

verbiage that
in some cases
maybe most
is probably correct
but at timesverbage sorely
misses the
mark

it seems to me
that every generation
produces these outcasts
who are not comfortable
within the accepted framework
of everyday society

maybe
they're waiting
for something better
or perhaps
something worse

maybe
they're standing by
for some future events
that may never
come to pass

a glitch
in the genetic coding
that sets them aside
indefinitely
for some improbable eventuality
when they will possibly find
that they're not
as useless
as they
and their peers
had always
assumed

of course
maybe we're all
just mean spirited loners
who will never have a place
in a functional
population

in any case
it's a warm and sunny
late September afternoon
and people are out
recreating
in mindless
boisterous fashion

I glance
outside
for only a moment
then close the blinds
to block out the brutal
penetrating light
of day

maybe
after sunset
when the people are gone
and travel is safe
I'll take a walk
and enjoy
the silence
of their absence