Sand
by Danny Mell
it’s like we all grow up to be beer chugging habit seeking human missiles
scratching our heads searching the rivers deep for what we welcomed long ago
television drugs lofty excess
coffee tire swings and freedom
watching plants grow eating raw tomatoes
i’m drunk i’m drunk i’m drunk!
left my leash at home travelled alone yesterday
times old guard
ancient concepts drivelling stupid
metal cords signalling different frequencies
ageing and drifting apart to what is needed
peaceful bliss
fun superseded
wearing black
watering the aeons.