In 1718 London Bridge is Falling Down
was written, even though the bridge was not.
In 2026 all of London is falling down
overrun with migrants and crime,
knife stabbings in particular.
Citizens are being jailed for tweets,
and London is no longer London.
And instead of the bridge,
London and Great Britain are falling.
And instead of God save the king,
God save the patriots and London
and all of Great Britain.

Bob Boyd

Peacocks are such beautiful birds
strutting about, their train of
feathers majestically magnificent.
But not to leopards and tigers,
they see peacocks as only food.
What a waste of nature’s beautiful
bird artistry,
reduced to merely meals
for unappreciative predators.

Bob Boyd

But, thank God, it went bust.
She had an unexpected
reversal of mind about
us getting together,
and I didn’t try to
change her mind back.
No means no, and once a
woman changes her mind
we are through, no rewind.
But to get back on topic,
the Sweden back then
when I almost moved to it
was not the crime ridden,
migrant flooded, tulmultous
Sweden of today, and, thanks
to that Swedish woman, I’m
better off in the USA today.

Bob Boyd

Sometimes I wonder if there are any old hippy women
now,
at least still in spirit if no longer in dress and in
practice.
I’d like to meet an old hippy woman for a platonic
friendship with.
I’m at an advanced age where a romantic relationship
is no longer vital to me.
And at my age men have low T which factors into
not lusting for the physical part of romantic love.
I’d like to talk to that old hippy woman about the good
old sixties days, gurus, seeking truth, etc.
But I’m at an advanced age where I’m not motivated
enough to look for one.

Bob Boyd

Is the primary purpose of this existence to
produce offspring and die?
Despite all the religions and beliefs is it all
for nothing except procreation and death,
like one would think the life of an insect,
a fish, or an animal woud be?
I like to think that there is more, like
an ultimate eternal bliss consciousness.
But maybe as some scientists believe,
we just live and die and nothing more.

Bob Boyd

Though our marriage didn’t
work out decades ago –
you, the rarely at home
outward extrovert –
me, more the homebody
inward introvert,
sometimes I wonder.

And though you died years
after our marriage ended
and I walked out on you,
sometimes I wonder.

Sometimes I wonder if we
met in the afterlife would
we be able to make it work
there, like soulmates finally
in a fairy tale forever paradise.

And wherever you are in the
life after this one, I hope these
heartfeft words reach you.

Bob Boyd

Shopping above his pay grade in an upscale
grocery store, that catered to the rich,
a fancy woman, sporting diamond rings,
wearing designer clothes, came on to him.
Her beauty was compelling, her perfume
seductive, her voice enchanting.
But he passed her by with just a few
pleasantries, so not to reject her impolitely.
He could not afford her, and he didn’t want her
to afford him, like a kept lesser pauper man.
And he knew she had assumed that because
he was in that upscale grocery store,
he was upscale monied too and suitable,
instead of the monetarily unsuitable
peasant she’d find him to be.

Bob Boyd