[Ian E Probstein]

Self-Portrait in Brooklyn

Windows are open.
Villains are often
Noisy and bragging.
Widows and orphans
Bear the burden.
The poor are begging.
Life is so ragged,
Anguish and rage —
This is my age.

My brains are brown.
My mood is down.
My lungs are grey —
This is my day.

Night shadows come,
They chant and charm.
I do not weep,
I’d rather sleep —
Or drink some rum.

Ian (New User)