Holes in the earth
Nobody believes the kid
as he shuffles about their feet
nobody buys him time
bides him tide
or even skips a beat
everybody's weak
and this week
fairytales are free
straight up free for the taking
and whether in sleep or in waking
one can catch a drift or two
one can watch a catch or two
one can see time
fall apart as it rhymes
one can watch the holes in the earth emerge
avoided by the birds
but huddled by the lot
they herded by the lot
out to see the tunnels
out to see the funnels
out to eat the funnel cake
venders
they sat
and they rendered
and they wondered
and they wandered
around the empty parking lot
and picked up misplacen rocks
and pulled up their complacent socks
and wondered where the lot
had found the books of lore
never mind
nevermore
said the venders
as they thought and they rendered
as they figured they'd remember
nobody is a member
unless they pay their dues
and that's when they realized
all that they used
all that they choose
all that they left behind
as they formulated rhyme
it's not the numbers or the rhythm
or the breathing or the tongue
it's not the fingers
or the lingers
or the pauses in between
it's not the thought
or the think
or the swallow or the drink
it's the pen and the paper
its receipt and the waiter
its numbers saved for later
it's ink and feather and fader
it's linen and cloth and wader
it's mesh and sew and stitch
it's sit and think and itch
it's stand and fake and pitch
I once was a traveling salesman
as he shuffles about their feet
nobody buys him time
bides him tide
or even skips a beat
everybody's weak
and this week
fairytales are free
straight up free for the taking
and whether in sleep or in waking
one can catch a drift or two
one can watch a catch or two
one can see time
fall apart as it rhymes
one can watch the holes in the earth emerge
avoided by the birds
but huddled by the lot
they herded by the lot
out to see the tunnels
out to see the funnels
out to eat the funnel cake
venders
they sat
and they rendered
and they wondered
and they wandered
around the empty parking lot
and picked up misplacen rocks
and pulled up their complacent socks
and wondered where the lot
had found the books of lore
never mind
nevermore
said the venders
as they thought and they rendered
as they figured they'd remember
nobody is a member
unless they pay their dues
and that's when they realized
all that they used
all that they choose
all that they left behind
as they formulated rhyme
it's not the numbers or the rhythm
or the breathing or the tongue
it's not the fingers
or the lingers
or the pauses in between
it's not the thought
or the think
or the swallow or the drink
it's the pen and the paper
its receipt and the waiter
its numbers saved for later
it's ink and feather and fader
it's linen and cloth and wader
it's mesh and sew and stitch
it's sit and think and itch
it's stand and fake and pitch
I once was a traveling salesman