Al Cohen's Music and a Poem in Albuquerque, New Mexico For Sale

Times are hard, like concrete, beneath the feet that I walk upon, as the night air
tussles my hair, and I stare upward, at the stars, like little pinholes in a velvet cloth, and I wonder,
is anyone looking back at me. From deep in space, we must look like ants, scurrying about, tiny little bugs, doing what we must to stay alive, scrounging for food, taking care of our young. That's what we do, I can't speak for bugs, even though I feel like one. But, as I said, I don't know how a bug feels, or anyone else for that matter, I can only imagine.
It's my imagination that allows me to think I know what others feel, but I don't, and how could I and how could you possibly understand the plight of a crocodile, or a small child with flies on it's face, scorching in the desert sun, or a cab driver who works the late night shift,
just to scrounge up food for his wife and children. What must it be like? I can only imagine, as I trudge onward, or forward, sometimes backward or round and round in circles, the sun rises, it sets and it rises once again. Might there be an end, maybe for the individual, but not for the web of life that keeps on moving, and grooving to a beat called time, and will it ever get better, or easier, because as I said, Times are hard.
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www.studio9c.net
Al Cohen is a local NYC musician, technician, but he is not an electrician, so don't call him to turn your lights on, though he will with a song. He is NYC"s best kept secret. Peace and prosperity to all.