By Esteban Moreaux
If it ended, where would we go?
What would we do?
What would we be?
Figures stand. Sunday hat, summer frock.
On the verge of something wonderful?
Lost tourists. Lost souls.
To the butcher- conducting his topia opera.
Nature detector, reality defector, impulsive defacer.
The phantomic marauder.
A romantic beheader.
The invention of clouds, and inexplicable crowds
Backdropped by a distant hum.
The familiar. Left behind.
Cats cradle, beevers models, acrid mist, bucolic scene.
Golden age is it?
Dear Dear. Think of it.
A queer enterprise, shock and awe,
Topless, shoeless and free of fancy.
Curiouser and Curiouser.
Think of it.