Pretty pink petal flakes
Falling slowly
In spring
Like snow

It seems to be her theme
a war against patriarchy
makes those men bleed
the ones that will not see

Apply a little pain
over here and over there
catching their attention
she has them in a stare

But she never blinks
until she’s heard and seen
until they open both their eyes
until they bend their knee

It’s such a big mistake we make
every single day
in many many ways
With every word we say

We’re inside out
We’re running ‘round and ‘round
like drunken turtles looking for
the end of a circle

Not knowing where we are
or where we want to go
making stories up about
things we don’t know

Desperate to explain
the source of all our pain
we play the ancient game
of finger-pointing blame

Seeing floating hairs
inside our own eyes
believing everyone is blind
and nobody is wise

Imprints of idiocy
behind  every move
and our needle never ever
leaves this groove

One day we’ll wake up
when we settle down
beyond the clouds we will find
an empty sky behind

She’s been here, she’s been there
Seems she’s been everywhere
Never early, always late
she rides the winds of fate

She met a man named Carlos
he took her for a ride
ever since he came and went
she’s been by my side

She loves me and she hates me
just like day and night
one depends on the other
and everything’s alright

I am a man like Carlos
and all the other guys
so sometimes I must pay
a price for my prize

I am a magician
casting my spells
I travel to heaven
I travel to hell
with trunks  full of hats
rabbits and horses
and an assistant
to cut you in half
of course

I try  to remember
not to believe
the lines that I read
the things that I see
the drama unfolding
under my spell
all of  the bliss
and the misery as well

Moment to moment
I rein in my mind
from following trails
I find that wind
away from the path
I want to follow
away from this world
so empty so hollow

Just try the secret code
to separate the coin from the gold
Just try
to separate your scream from the familiar theme
of your night time dream
Just try
to separate the parts from the car
you won’t get very far
If you try
to separate the legs from the table
you’ll find you won’t be able
Just try
to separate the reader of this rhyme
from the person that survives
death time
Just try

It may inspire some ire
be burned in a fire
or placed in a gilded frame
to be read again and again

But where is my poem
before I write it down
I can look all around
It cannot be found

When written and read
by someone new
do they read the poem
read by me or you?

Is the title the poem
or word number nine?
If you check you will see
it's not in a line

The poem's not a verse
nor is it a word
and it's not a salad
of sounds that are heard

Try to point at this poem
It will dis appear
into thin air
and not be found anywhere

A poem is a magic act
and that's a fact