Why Should Men Even Care?

I strolled down streets by the avenue,

place that I had once known so well,

seeking to find those spots that I had heard

that more enrapturing than acknowledged by the spoken word.

I walked through cities of concrete,

waving at all of the bizarre faces I chanced to meet,

as I passed by mercantile holes,

seeking to exchange those wares of old.

I paused in a restaurant so nice,

where they sold food packages wrapped in leaves of palm twice,

the primary dish was that of plantain,

encompassing fish from the main,

yes encompassing fried fish from the main.

Our drink was the juice of the coconut,

which were abundant in a profusion run amok,

our song was the sweet flute in the distance,

floating upon an air of happenstance.

In the distance I breathed the vapor of incense,

the enrapturing feeling so intense,

I felt as though I were floating,

I could no longer comprehend my own meaning.

By my side walked my coconut angel,

walking as if riding upon some midnight carousel,

as we all strolled beneath stars in the sky winking,

feeling as though we were dreaming.

What may I say that might sound any different?

What could I say that would mean anymore?

I felt as though our experiences were heaven sent,

I longed for the sweet pleasures that fate held in store.

Does time lost hold any meaning?

Why should we men even care?

A dog lives for the moment,

why should men of any more be aware?