A long hard push out into the open

the folklore of our youth taps it’s feet

in heavy steel-toe boots, betraying something

of what is to come

one stumble at a time, plodding

aimlessly past milestones, career men

and heroes, visions entertained but

never quite measured up to

all laying the ground work for an

entropy driven resentment from being

cheated of our fancy.

Sports cars, gangsters and lottery's

all equidistant from wherever it is

we are

the tone shifts with good fortune

the sailors don’t deserve the wind but

we sure do, it’s a pity we always

squander it, neither needing it

nor knowing where to take it,

bleeding out our precious time,

killing...

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