best, would  be for me to wait, consider
my theme- the scheme,  await that inner
lyricist to arrive- yet here I go, impatient
for the to and fro
the rhythm begs at my sight my
eyes to paint again the white
empty spaces with hieroglyphic symbolism,
a pause in space and sanity, whatever
comes to mind, and i spin
my pedestal around where it ends
I do not know,
if I fall it won't be the end
the beginning is dizzy now,
and so I go, off
the track path road where
no one else has *****
enough to tread
all barefoot,
ill equipped as I,
and I do it with
a bitter wry
bit of smile
irony and hope