Caravans of peace
They roll by
Not stopping for a minute
The gold dust runneth

A drum roll here
A trumpet there
Sounds of daily living

Escape to the mountains
Run fer the hills
But the streams are dry
Rocky mountain high

Glacial ice
Soft underfoot
A refuge
A karmageddon trek?

White birds at night
a brimming plight

Flying south
Flying west
Hark the center of the universe
A savage respite?

O Pandora
Close thy gory box
The end is nigh
And it’s still about the bull or the cock!

The chicken
It crosses the road
But man – he sits
Staring at the gaping wide hole.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s