crap shoot

 
 
 
there are tiny stones
in the shoes of the
ballerina
 
there is a mad fury
in the way some
men walk
 
but there is nothing
time can do to save
us
 
and breakfast becomes
boring
 
conversations about
Chairman Mao  
becomes boring
 
love becomes boring
 
the intersection between
birth and death grow
further apart
 
we don't get to choose
if we come into this
world
 
or when we  
leave
it
 
the echoes
stop
 
reptiles run across  
the fire sands
of Arizona
 
the will to endure
has endured
enough
 
God has handed
us a blank
IOU