Where do i call the borderline?
On this map drawn by the oil barons,
and Kings and Queens of made up names

No one owns anything , not the shoes on our feet - not the blood in our veins , not the houses we build.

We merely borrow all this. But one thing we do - own it , this.

We own our thoughts and yet even they are comprised of borrowed segments from traffic light intersections and off hand comments , soaked up like a sponge the knowledge of my surrounding life
tip top of History's eternal spiral forth lot
until the next young chump comes along , i hand down my invisible crown
and hope they can wear it with ease


that their life time may have fruits aplenty and vegetables too ,

Rich tapestries , cast of wool , fine gold thread all jumbled in with the ruby red and lines of green field.