Sunday, May 16, 2021

Today's poem - "a riffle in the continuum"

a riffle in the continuum

 

Rain falls stopping five feet above-ground so the little fellers can ride around on their saddle pigs and stay dry

 

Crazy people hoot and cross busy intersections on hands and knees as the ladies football parade emits loud sounds up and down Castaneda Street

 

some nut in a BE HERE NOW! t-shirt says to me, Hey buddy, words  just put us in boxes!

 

Oh yeah? I ask, Then why do you use words?

 

Suddenly I remembered waking last night at 3 a.m. when I saw bought-out retirees sleepwalk in herds like a great migration all across outspread lawns tinted blue by cloud-interrupted moonlight and had to admit:

 

They live in the future and I live in an old-age trailer park

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