a transformer explodes
dry heat drinks in like dying star
signaling the birth of summer
desert blossoms wilted trampled usunder
by the hooves of children
send them out to pasture
not going to recapture
that time or place herein
you can't go home again
the clothes fit someone else
the seams are splitting
repeating lost selves
inbetween what is and what
you'd cling to if you could but
that line is right there staring back
and if you could you would have it out
like setting fire to the A/C to burn the house down
you spend too much time trapped in contrast
too much time in the mire and morass
too negative to laugh at chance
attacked by panic
danced with skeletons
but avoided death in the thrill and the will
to be here dodging sparks set off by witches brooms.
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