Every man fears the psychiatrist’s ****** cigar.
That fraudulent Freudian slip.  What freak-fantastic dribble.

Destruction of society imaged in a dream.
The apocalypse is light in comparison to his judgments.

Superlative pish.
Let this be a sockdologer.

Everything points to a brighter future.
What fuels our world’s beauty, forests, fields, and gardens?

Is it not decay, the litter-layer, scrap & waste, the uncultivated?
Reclaimed?  New life springs from deadwood, from the effluvia.

Superfluous matter feeds life and produces the crown
This the natural world wears on her weary head.

As they say of one man’s trash or animal regarding that matter . . .
Our systems are breaking down, thankfully though painful;

Giving hope of a bright new world springing forth.

The dairy devil
Has cold hands
Pray it grabs your throat

There is an unrecognized key to living a life satisfied, if not Fulfilled. It is not a secret.  It is much overlooked.  It is: cycles

There is an unrecognized key to living a life satisfied, if not fulfilled.
It is not a secret.  It is much overlooked.  It is: cycles

The sun rises on our lives, the sun sets, as well.
The world obits and whirls, the seasons change

Then change back again. Cycles, life is a cycle.  Spinning
In a controlled fashion.  We can count on it.  For

It will cycle back around to the start of day, of love, of life.
That’s the thing to mentally grasp.  We rise to the cycle of the day.

We hum along never thinking, “We are spinning, turning, cycling!”
Feel the groove of that.  We will rise, we will sleep, we will be . . .

Cycles remind us that there is a rhythm.  With rhythm we make music.
With music we sing and dance our way through the cycle of life.

Wrap that, like a comforting blanket, around your life
And cycle on.

In the garden of delight
At the eve of dusky-night
-Twilight holds no grudge

The brush had been light
You had seen him in his flight
-Lights dimmed, everything buzzed

Hoping that he'd soon light
You hoped he'd light on you
-Before a shark bite you get a nudge

Ah, tender kisses on the skin
Are just a prelude to the sting.
-Blood smudged

Garden of delight
At the eve of dusky-night
Twilight holds no grudge

Leaves in wind
Acrobatic life
Tumbling death