i’m not wiser, nor smarter,

nor better than you,

the twenty years between
us only
means
that i’ve
had a few more years to see

the sprawl devour the hills,
my teeth rot in my mouth,

our bodies dissolve to pus,
people disemboweling each other
amid flashy smiles,
traitors going in velvet robes,
the house getting it all in the end,
my experience fade into amber liquid and fireworks,
electronic scrap, dusty books
and the smell of a forgotten
old man.

twenty years closer
than you
to the bad breath of creation,
the stinking birthplace of life,
the beckoning maw of infinity

and twenty years farther
from the innocence
you wear like an iPod
at your beautiful, unchallenged

virginal flystrike.