They don’t have men
Down at the newspaper anymore
Dusty ages disagree
They’ve forever closed the door
They’re hiding the truth
In the time of an information superhighway
Where they locked away Dignity
They’re not telling, they won’t say
We’re on our own out here alone
You think we’re lost & have much to fear
Stranded under this desert sky
Be still thy soul, for I was born out here
Snapshots of our lives
Small moments frozen on the clock
The ones we tend to forget about
Until we’re stranded upon the dock
Time is a fleeting master
The harbinger of a physics defied
Our memories are trying to surface
Yet still caught in the sandy tide
Flaming sauerkraut stud muffin
A condensed version of radial glory
Knowing full well where life begins
The translucent strands of our story
Calculating Parisian jazz statistics
Veiled through the rummy, filtered grime
Distance equals an unfettered stump
When satisfaction measured in Lycra & time
Logbooks; surmounting the tepid schedule
All aboard the mourning run of the downtown train
Sunrise catching your weary eyes
Early summer rain prepositions our inaugural hurricane
*I was bogged down and couldn’t write so I just started writing nonsense until I was inspired to create something. It is what it is.
Captain Q 