There or Thereabouts

Strange cadences of a Tuesday evening
Trouble yet arouse me;
In business suit or silk kimono,
I’m the same old phenomenon as ever.
My stratagems are precarious,
Serving best to complicate affairs.
There’s a song I’ve been singing since I was a boy,
A song I shall sing to the grave.

In my skin, or someone else’s,
I pursue my own peculiar research
Into things;I sleep as little as possible,
Finding the whiteness in night.
Heaven I do not seek,
But perhaps to ameliorate
Conditions in purgatory,just a little.
Presumptuous,I know, but there it is.

Call this music? It’s just disconnected sounds...
Not sure if these are grey hairs,
Or just a trick of the light.
Autumn’s return always pleases me,
A time to synthesize...
Sometime or other you will have to pay
For the breakages,no getting out of it,
No fooling the shopkeeper.