S/he who has spent each day of life in excess
Tells me what makes happiness
And then expects me
to accept
S/he who has spent an eternity
Stringing hearts and sipping wine
Just sweeping cobwebs makes them flee
Imagine what toil would bring working 7 x 7
Blocked in this cell H called Time
still undefined, yet quite refined
Distanced from death, pumped and sterilized
For maximum effect
Selling that golden dawn
Singing spare the silly sparrows and
Let the lambs roam free
Call on LORD technology
Or your local shrink, shaman, clergy
Or any other shark to guppy
You play capture the
Scream of the butterfly
As if consent wills
Heart or nature’s lie
You will not win
But to prevail
For a fort-night
Is fine for tempests pay
Trap it
Milk it
Right where it’s at
That greater good
Well played plant
A fair fly trap
Crow to know
One day
The wisdom of our
Dismay
Kensho Homestead 