Oh the trials and tribulations

to offer little poignancy

to the broader scope of the world.

Yet, what’s inside,

ticks,

that part of why, the wicked

and the resolute

together

finding a stream silent in the wood

like a flowing dream

the sounds and scapes give solitude.

Some of my best stuff

occurred when she was around

he’d state, this deep pocket of his mind,

without recurrence who would remember except

for himself

over and over again,

yet, there are the people

those close and near,

heard it all forever as well

deep and ruthless the content.

This speaker

so sly of wit in order the discretion

necessary

to pull off

it.

We do decide how

revealing,

emasculating

the idea of fortune in the mind,

the complexity of neurons

suddenly combine

purpose seems more near than far.

Sometimes I won’t have the answer

he spoke with such fair

in an ascent

allowing the callous nature of 

“I want to survive,”

wreak havoc.

Oops, I slipped.

 

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© Thom Amundsen 10/2021