The era of separation

This is how it is, I tell myself

Unemployment on the roof-top

No one cares to share their lighter

To light up your cigarette anymore

My folks belong to the era

Where you shared towns

Kept the doors unlocked

As though all belonged to the same house

There is no deadline and daffodils

Mesmerize while I’m stuck decades ago

Caffeinated on cheap coffee

Scavenging the job columns

Finding fish bones and rotten spinach

Ink-died pens and scooping 

The last drops from the soup bowl

Allen Ginsberg is dead

I tell myself, no more love

Circulating around the corporate cubicles

You are on your own 

This is the era of separation

This is how it is, I tell myself

Solitude is no longer optional

Faces look kinder on the TV screen