manicured nails chip
scratching society’s flawless surface
& thoughts turn rObOtiC
while we frantically count ourselves
through the days (1:35:40 until dusk).
we have to squint to see the sun
among exhaust fumes and pesticides,
neatly fold dreams into filing cabinets
& spasm home to the guttural sounds of
late afternoon traffic.
isn’t it time to
inhale the mud
and breathe roses
upon stainless steel?
Another Wandering Soul 
how many of us have those neatly folded dreams…. xx
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quite a few i believe 😉
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Too many dreams
Folded up in pockets
And packets
And forgotten…
Sad and lovely Miri.
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… unfortunately.
thank you, JC 🙂
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