Up the Street

who remembers anymore
mentors in old world conflicts
of square-headed boys
obliges this repetitive stress
doorlocking and wound checks
onward christens this battlefield
in full sequins and colored feathers
waiting with cups in hand
drink to auld lang syne
and rung in to the tune
played on debts and credits
mix words under the bridge
one man against the world
even if he’s not interesting