I hear sweet echoes

the unformed words of children

floating in the clouds

for five billion years

the earth’s been remodeling

and it's not done yet

damp green shoots dry out
you thought you had forever
too bad, but you don't

since the earth must die
our words and deeds to space dust
why write poetry?

ride a prancing horse
all around the center ring
you may take a bow

if worms don't lay eggs
how do worms make baby worms?
you gotta wonder

Ask your questions, but
if you want a straight answer
know there's no such thing

sing your life away
dance along the fiddler's path
laugh until it hurts

structure keeps you caged
it can also set you free
or do both at once