Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Mugger


Sadness waits for each of us
and mugs us
when we do not expect it.

No protector can shield us
from its criminal behavior.
All fall victim sooner or later.

The best response to its pain
is to let it have its way,
knowing it will soon move on.

1 comment:

  1. Armadillo

    Pick the barnacles from my hide
    I now belong to no one
    The burrow that I climbed inside
    Has flooded like a snow cone

    No longer can I rhapsodize
    On zither or on drum
    My larynx squeaks out mouse-size
    Atonalities of the moon

    What good I thought that I had done
    Gave no comfort in return
    I crumble into plates of dung
    For I belong to no one

    [Disposable Poem September 7, 2011]
    Dr. Mike

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