Became ugly with time…
I watch the rain outside the Jazz club window. I am singing with the Jazz man.
“The sky is crying.”
I have become ugly. Time slowly took my smile, time slowly too my laughter and
time had stole my hope.
Once I needed dancehalls, once I needed loud music and once I need conversation.
Now I accept quiet.
Once I wanted to be Hemingway in my youth. Sadly I found Kosinski sorrow and insanity.
And now I need Salinger quiet and loneliness.
I wonder. Are we doomed to need less?
Brake our heart when we learn. Our voices, our words.
Are meaningless.
I go to Lake St. Clair alone. I read alone, I write alone.
I read my beloved books by the quiet of the Clinton River.
I asked St. Clare de Pobre. When did I become so ugly.
She didn’t answer me.
Dancing Coyote