Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the country burns
slow desire
traffic backed up on the bridge
white caps on the water
the fisherman waiting
the heart ages like paper
brittle is known
it touches
fantasy bridges one shore to the other
but all the solid images in the eye
are mirage., illusion, delusion
what a mess being stranded
feet, after a time, sinking in the sand
the country burns with energy
but you stand in lethargy
knowing how tragedies end

has the shackled feel of a traffic jam-- but also reminds me of never quite being able to reach the far horizons out in the desert west ....

on the bright shore is a line shack
reality and imagination duck inside
retreat again into heatwaves as one
where a rig flows into boiling singularity
comes to rest where it started, as things do
it must have flowed, the wheel vibrated
flowed to a point that never existed
a ship to the edge of flat earth ocean...

sweet- oceans

grim, but honest.....how frustrating it is to watch powerful greedy morons kick out the tent poles.....the circus is leaving town....perhaps for good this time.....

bravo---

this is rock and roll- i had to read it again, and again- hugs