was forming opinions
long before it was
prudent to do so.
without proper attire
and a winning smile.
now poop opinions
with every squat,
and my opinions
stink up the place beautifully;
much like politics.
there he goes again!
slamming politics!
he need cease and desist
with this political rhetoric!
are you listening, old man?
cease and desist! do it now!
now would be good, before
she takes you to the shed;
knocks some sense into you!
tried walking the line,
like that Johnny Cash tune,
but my footsteps would not
match walk while talking;
staying in line with the time,
lacking a pocket full of cash.
but here I still be, doing quite fine.
grandiose ideas revealing
grandeur subconscious feelings
reveal nothing through opaque
viewing of unknown consequences.
hiding in a dark and frightening
story still untold.
superstition is a lame shadow;
always on the move, but
at a very slow pace.
followed by sluggish thoughts
and a murder of crows
cleaning up leavings; not to
forsake one's duty of contentment.
have come to realize most of my later
writing could, very well be concluded
as prose. as opposed to poetry.
so be it. let chips and blame
fall were such may.
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