St Peter's Gate (poem)

It's beginning to get to me.
the rejections. the inability to finish things.
the "ADD" like symptoms
exacerbating....
waiting for fame to come to me...
and it's passed me by
(the man waits for the bus
the bus don't come 'round here no 'mo)

what is gracefully bowing out?

i see why the retired die now.
if there is no one wanting what they have
(not even the wisdom we once wanted
from our elders)
what's the point in taking more
food&air from the children?

yet
i am fierce
more critical than ever
more
seer of the dangers
everywhere
from the well meaning
globalists of both stripes
all stripes
all who have the answer
the undulating of
our monkey angel natures
(yeah yeah god)

answers come and go

but they hold up a device
we never had this!
before
no?
they called it a hand tool once
way back

the loss of memory
a partial blessing
you remember the coffee
only
not all the petty squables
of "family" and Family and
all that...

the notorious crankiness of the aging
is this is
st peter's gate?