the equality of emptiness

among my works made public

the poems from my past

that i wrote in meter and rhyme

have been the most popular

so with my left hand

curled around a coffee cup

and a pen in my right hand

i wrote tonight in the vein

of rhyming words in a refrain

but it just felt so juvenile

but maybe it wasn’t the style

i’m just not the person

i was when i wrote those poems

idealism was still part of my creation

now i’m just a creature

with nothing to feature

with meter and rhyme

i expressed passion

now i’m out of fashion

the future folds and draws the blinds

locks the doors, unplugs the signs

my torn jeans and worn out shoes

transport me and my flask of booze

anyway

there is no point to this progression

no place to put the period

signifying an end to the matter

they search the universe for possible chatter

but so far all they hear are

echoes from a vast emptiness

***