My attention shifting between the bracts of a lone thistle,
To the algorithmic beat patterns of vacuum in my head,
To the resonating alarm of my carelessness’ whistle
No nocturnal gnat had ever yet seen,
A soul as free as mine in this hinterland so arid,
Blowing up worries in subtle rings of smoke,
Though the distinctions of my distractions were varied
Like the Rastafarian centipede perched on a mushroom,
My words, left trails, like those of the warm and wise,
If you retraced those trails they all led back to me,
And all labyrinthine exits led to your surprise!
A beggar fears the phantoms less than the robbers,
A failure fears nothing but it‘s own self - appalling,
A contraband fears the confiscation of freedom,
But I fear nothing as I’m earthbound, and falling.
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