This disjointed series
Of serious choices
Has left me cold
I listen with ease
To erratic voices
Some new, some old
They pontificate about white
Snowflakes and blue skies
The products of reflected light
Caught by optic eyes
They never see
Skies of white,
Or blue snowflakes
They never see
Flux as right
They like static fakes.
This conjointed poem
ReplyDeleteOf serious poetry
Has left me ravenous
for more words