Impossible to believe sometimes

Impossible to believe sometimes
As the cold wind blows over greedy roofs
As the man in thin-rimmed spectacles
Decides another man's fate by sharpened crayon
Impossible to believe -
That dreams aren't farmed like eggs

And all of those early memories
That were supposed to decide
The old retiree down the road
(As if you had to stop yourself
From getting further ahead)
Turn into a painting best kept hidden

The orphan emerging from emerging doorways
Quotes Ginsberg & Kerouac
In profound new ways

People come and go through various doors
As do certain versions of Michelangelo
His eternal women too
End up getting shot in dirty alleyways
For indicating their anger
In ways other than blood
End up sacrificing their children
By the sharpened silver needle
And regretting it as it blows
Through these various doors,
The cold wind blows from across
Distant nights, bouncing on tin roofs\

To the ones who disappear below ground
The smoothed trip means little
Even if the dyed-blonde guide
Plucks your eyebrows for free
Or that those rusty old shoes
Are polished beyond anyone's wildest dreams.