The monkey too tired now
To dance
And feeling stupid
In its tiny human clothes
Kips on top of
The barrel organ
As if the fading day had faded
Back to a forgotten day
At the turn of the century

I almost expecting to see
Toffs in top hats & ladies in luscious dresses
Canes & crinolines perambulating by
Or to open a paper and see
It is 1863.

Time is see through now
And dates mean nothing.
Children’s voices run in & out of time
...trying to catch... “it! ”
The barrel organ man
looking a lot like Toulouse La Trec

stares out into empty space
not the least interested in customers
just doomed to turn the wheel
that stains the evening’s sunset
with everything from Abba to Verdi.

Poked awake
The monkey jumps up
He too doomed
To dance
his nothingness.
Children’s voices run off
into bedtimes & dreams.

Rotterdam is erased
& so am I
a ghost in this dusk
trying to read the last page of
Knut Hamsun’s HUNGER

As little lights
In little houses
Come on one after the other
Little patches of yellow
Glowing with human warmth

I sit among
The children’s swings
& sing
“Mamma Mia...
...here I go again! ”

Dónall Dempsey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/connecting-nothing-to-nothing/