Sweet Orange, Deep Blue

In thy chambers,

I peer amidst constructive meaning,

I care for those lost, 

I care for those deceiving.

I walk in dignity,

& this is so.

— “on forth, to the rhythm!” yells the salmon below.

To move, I beckon from the depths of my soul,

as if I needed words in my ear to behold–

To groove right by, 

to shift & to mold,

to make everyday sunny– 

as if you care what garbage I am told.

& shadows, & shadows, & shadows– I see.

succulently dousing my spirit in false integrity.

To have found Waldo without even owning the book!!!

 oh, but of course! Quite normal you see–

I found him out back,

 sauntering to the beat

of a drummer boy,

 who owned nothing to eat.

so proposing a question,

Where do all the manners of answered time go?

I think I left them outback– tied up like a stripper to the north pole. 

Put on your thinking cap, 

dig on in, 

breathe inside,

& beheld within.

time to reap what I sow,

 & to turn against boulders, 

to see if they are real

or just calculated mental patterns .

so put away your fire arms

so put away your fire arms