Something Smells Fishy

There is a brook beyond the yard and beyond the yard I must never stray

I long to rake my fingers through her cherub little waves. Dip my toes and get lost in a cleansing interstellar daze

How foolish, to thirst for a tiny creek when I have hills and fields I could explore for years. However, I find no satisfaction in overturning stones I am expected to overturn.

I want to lift the mountains hidden behind the backdrop sky, snatch up the slimy things scurrying beneath them, and feed the birds singing by

More than anything I want to lap at the stream beyond the yard and feel the warmth of an honest sun on the back of my neck.

I hunger for something more than these fields and hills in this shadow land. And that is what makes me a strange man.

Why question the clouds that generously shade me? Because when everything becomes shady, one tends to thirst for light.

Too bad the Fuze panel was switched and a telephone pole was hit
Truth and honesty were going for a burn ride. You might have guessed it right,  nobody survived.

The funeral is gorgeous though. It's happening right now. How does it feel to be part of it?

A putrid era twitching like something crawling in your periphery
Everything about this time period is slippery and wriggling

Something smells fishy and I'm glad it's not me.