The freshly painted night sky lingers pink
A feminine colour associated with beauty
Youthful and vibrant in its manifestations
Spring has warmly advanced into summer
July beckons as June breezes by our faces
I study the fleeting light of Victoria Park
A gather of details for later presentations
The grass has been recently cut and raked
I absorb the smell like a women's perfume
Every man has his own memory pleasures
They often remain after everything is gone
A few groups of people loiter on the grass
Their purpose is communal and marijuana
Contentment seems to come easily to them
Though once again appearances may fool
I surely cannot always look like loneliness
Despite feelings that have rarely departed
The sound of the cool skateboarders echo
Their maneuvers are for impressing girls
Times might change but courting remains
You can be anything except a broken man
A taboo item at the gossip tables of women
Being an addict is a more inviting quality
Addictions can be kicked and love found
I belong in a different time or another city
The future or the past either would work
Instead escaping the present is impossible
Daily reminders of my failures haunt me
Though at the moment they are invisible
Monday has thoroughly become evening
Tuesday waits in the shadows of buildings
The historical houses along Central Avenue
Where ghosts throw yearly garden parties
Dancing and drinking to victorious lives
Charmed daughters marrying handsomely
Their doctor princes becoming unfaithful
Image is everything in this digitalized age
I suppose mine is still a work in progress
Much like seasons and a women's reliance.
23 June 2009
