like burma shave signs
each day brings a notion,
a hint of tomorrow found
reflecting on simple words.

we nod, like we already
know it and so why worry?
and continue our internal
scrambled-eggs thinking.

sub-concious in firm control,
our mouth in gear quashing all.
waiting on the sun's bowling-lane
of expectations and performances.

a gallow's laugh is all i muster;
the hangman-a friend of mine, has
me in her siren's craggy shore.
holds my dreams up, mocking me.

07/05/2007