BACK TO ZERO
It is night. The werewolf struggles out of his suit
and smokes another cigarette. A lizard comments
on the situation. Tsk! tsk!
Not far off someone flushes a toilet. The gurgle is
followed by footsteps and the creak of tired
floorboards. Nothing happens.
Day comes, heralded by a thousand cockcrows.
The flutter of bird wings, leaves rustling in
a chill morning breeze. Songs waft through half-open
windows, seep out again through cracks in the doors
of somnolent homes in Suburbia. Newspaper delivered.
A sigh announces the presence of someone who knows
the answers to all your questions. This is killing me,
I think, sitting up in bed to jot down a thought. Why
such a sentence? Can't we do something meaningful
today? Too many queries at the counter.
Back to zero.
flow, watch the waters flash and gleam in the sun.
Picnic by the mossy banks, roll out the mat, somebody.
Now lie still and listen... the trees understand and