Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

daze turn into years
miles into millenniums
the dawning creeps into view
whimpers like an old dog in heat,
and just as I get a quick peek
the hatch door snaps shut

in dreams I run desperately
chasing an honest illusionist, a rabbit
but all I get are seductive glances,
the treadmill of truth I learn
has infinite gear ratios
it rolls eternally

a mechanical chameleon
shapeshifter of history....but,
when she is there
when her catlike tongue licks my face
like erotic sandpaper paring down
a massive block of oak

the love dust sprinkles down on the the table
and is inhaled like lines of coke, why
is knowing you so impossible
why is it buried so deeply
in such clever places
in such precarious territory

I stretch my arm to hand off the baton
but your fingers merely beckon
I no longer have the vinegar,
I am just a prophet with little profit
nothing, to hold up
to the gawking rubberneckers, nothing

but this haphazard life of mine

questions
of unanswerable dreams
yet we endure steve
feeling the now of
it's all we have
feeling the constant sting
of the ticking clock
that has always been
here, there, everywhere
wondering why
writing it down
grasping the meaning
for an instant
only to see it disappear......

thanx Mark....despite all our planning so much ends up with a randomness we couldn't have anticipated