bald! bald! bald! he called
from wall to hall as he couldn't stall
the tall task of masking his hair loss
as his eyeballs looked ever so appalled

the stress will mess the rest, i guess
and for us,
we'll be out in the woods
for when have you ever seen a true woodsman
without any hair on his head?

the people of the woods may get mauled
but without 9 to 5's
they will NEVER go bald!

wooden cabin of the nowhere forest
front door barricaded by snowstorms
icicles glistening beneath windowsills
through the panes, a faint light

the fireplace
oh, the fireplace that provides
us with warmth from the outside
illuminating the outline
of the marshmallows that lie
atop cups of hot cocoa

and on the couch we lay
in each other's embrace
in these sweaters that keep us
from ever leaving this place

as the fire hums lower
embers orange-red
i wonder shall i get
dry wood from the shed?
but why disturb the moment
a moment too good to be true
tonight the couch is our bed
and i rest here with you

the pottery is unspinning
the sweater's unknitting
the candle is melting
and the tea's gone missing
pondering the theft in awe at this mess
and what's left:
clay, fabric, wax, and leaves
i guess
it's god's way
to say
be grateful for your things
when the world goes backwards
it's the leaving that stings

mailbox hopping means no stopping
every day there's a new house to drop in
i live with the owner's and dig inside their brains
and by the end i feel i've become just like them
is my personality like water?
internal cannon fodder?
if each day im sent back from one to nil
then what does that say about my free will?

lone survivors trudge with remorse
overlooking buildings collapsed
humans trapped
how hard it is to grasp
a society bogged down
dopamine abound
when it got tough near the ground
they didn't know how
to work
to find purpose
in a world of change
succumbing to apathy
they lay across the earth
end to end
and let the sky fall
right on top of them