'You might find me,
with poems in my pocket,
A soul full of irony
names of lovers,
Skywriting in my mind,
each a stardust sprinkling,
of memories ever twinkling,
and there were truths,
Sifting through,
many expressed clumsily,
Beached whales drying out,
blubbering soundlessly,
Just another spectacle,
for those who do not understand,
To gawk at.......'