by Aaron La Lux
The Fool’s Full Moon,
hangs lazily in the sky,
no Tarot in this House of Cards,
just black hats and white lies,
I am,
in a small town,
somewhere in Sonoma California,
sipping strawberries,
no hay only straw berries,
forgot my way must have instinctual amnesia,
don’t ruffle my feathers scarecrow,
I’m trying to balance my Libra scales,
with black and white ends meat,
a balanced diet of zebra tails,
how conscious,
can one honestly get,
before they realize it’s all nonsense,
this is completely chaotic,
this is chaos,
we are a lost tribe,
we can run,
but we can’t hide,
and why would we want to,
when the moon is full,
and the vibe is right,
and our thoughts begin to lull,
and you find yourself,
in a small town,
when you find yourself,
in a small town,
you will find,
strangers don’t seem so strange,
you will find,
we all share some of the same things,
you will find,
the waitress is not just a waitress,
she is a human being being human,
you are her and she is us,
she answers because you called,
she comes to take your order,
fresh strawberry juice,
and a veggie burger,
she came because you called,
like a wolf,
on a full moon,
we are here in the moment,
then gone way too soon… ?
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ABOUT THE POET ~
So much to write, with only so many lines, like so much to do, with only so little time, so really what else can I say, other than these words of mine, as I write this futuristic history, so we can remember these passing times... ∆
Last updated October 15, 2015