all this turbulence
is bad for my digestion
peace of mind a luxury
I haven't seen in ...
since graduation
when frame about vaunted degree
asunder ripped the fall was free
preoccupied with shape and form
nascent disasters are the normal
serial of champions
we feed too much on crisis ...
truth is the hero is the guy
or gal or other wise enough
to persevere
persist through practice
endless mindless numbing
'til something elegant is born
... and with enough humility
to clean the grime up from the day
engaged in creativity
thrilling in the feel of clay
or taste of words
or any sensual release
of who they really are
so meta have we all become
instant the gratification
we all depend upon
some turbulence shakes off the dust
aerates the stream disrupts the rust
spurs (r)evolution of ideas
but constant turmoil just adds years
in very little time
I'd rather let my breathing slow
attain a rhythm resonant
within the ether where I go
an existential resident
dependent on laminar flow
and glide
gracefully
glide
© 2017 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved
Inspired, yet again, by one of RC deWinter's Shorties with Selfies.
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