SING SONG

all future has a beginning.
behind the beginning
lies only ruins;
a wasteland of nothing;
with no beginning or end.
no need for sun and rain.

shivering on a hill
windblown snow
freezing one's nose
time to go home

think could cause
discord on left side
of our frontal-lobe.
but not to sweat it;
our frontal-lobe doesn't.

searching for purpose
in all the wrong places,
in all the wrong times,
could drive one over the edge.

simplicity speaks volumes
in cases like these.
all tied up in pretty
ribbons and bows.

digest poetry; volumes.
conceding nothing.
give no quarter; ask none.

leave repenting for those
in need of immediate repose.
shake off those doldrums

with songs by Frank Ifield.
good advice, think I'll take it.
might even sing along.

father of his father
fathered his mother,
confusing the heck out of
the genealogy club
his mother and father
belonged to before
he was even born.