An inquiry from a philosopher

 
Just tell me dear old man?
Who would notice the bus stops today
stuck in captivity
old aunt suspected of having a heart attack
and the suffering humanity in it?
Unless it's a dead end,
not among spoiled teenagers,
or dead flies total,
single-minded invasion which
it includes everything and everyone.

Even the dogs stare lazily,
anyone at will
they will come around at any time.
It becomes hilly and grows into an island of mounds
trash itself, weeds, humming the homeless,
in the city of Nineveh and they wander and riot,
rats walk bridges
to feast under its dead pillars.
You could just grumble
you could eat the brush
poison you all day long, old man,
to end suddenly
for a more temporary,
a more peaceful era,
the total, brainwashed anarchy-chaos
it continues to infect universally
seemingly unsuspecting victims.

You note with sad disappointment,
that they are eccentrics, geeks,
heralds, prophets
they can't be
individuals now
in this twisted world:
success, fame, career aspirations,
no party faces, no V.I.P. queens.

The upside-down wordsmith is a thief
nor can it have slang variants
they are so disgusting, nauseating
disgust doesn't even have a future tense anymore,
as you once dared to hope.

Feel free to make your subconscious public
in a reality show
you could at least get a million followers.
- Brain-shrunken, jerks could stare
just cheering loudly for the live broadcast,
because they're totally retouched prostitute divas
they would rather go with a lazy tone
- if I could -,
the very first luxury private flight to Dubai,
and suffocated in its homelessness
the noise of the big city drowns out
in this media-sensational storm,
even to infinity
a non-stop beauty pageant.

Maybe old loves in the park music
could be silent about you: you deserve it
about an elderly mischievous,
compassionate philosophy discipline,
which amateur literature lovers
they explain with overheated enthusiasm!