suppose the spectators become restless
trapped in a lousy boat
moats keep blades from reaching throats
but that western air still guides through
blue crisp skies hidden by murky grey brewing
about to collapse
pieces glittering and chiming
change scatter from holes in pockets
and hands clinging drunkenly
no me ho die tries to swindle the mind
so polite for strangers
and clean as a medical tent
went there and back
took more than a three day trail
snails may run faster
but they don't enjoy the scene as much.
