Shifting (©June 2014 VaudevilleJohn John T. Windle)
As I enter the open road
I wonder about the load
to carry or leave on the verge.
My roots have outgrown the coil.
Cold fossils wait beneath the soil
and the anchor succumbs to the surge.
Thus, I have concluded that
my eyes will not return
to gaze upon this paradise.
The truth is beyond the news
and progress can be learned
with predictable rolls of the dice.
So poison’s heaven for some.
Life thrives from the loves of mums
and cancers commit suicide.
My program contains the source
and plays out a version of the course.
Of this, there is no place to hide.
And all of the answers needed
lay within our grasp.
Get the loonies away from the mike.
The crawl of the dance impeded
by doctrines of wrath,
may you break down old doors,
destroy your dictators,
and become, ever more,
god-like.
Photo: John T. Windle (2003).