MY TIDE IS ALWAYS OUT
Now my daily dose of designer beer
is opened with rapt anticipation…
it’s running out fast; the day is near
where I’ll need to reassess the situation.
I prefer Dr. Bob’s designer pale ales
to a pint of cold, sparkling Wifebeater
here in the kitchen where I receive 1000 e-mails
and a clock is only as fast as a cheetah.
Nothing is my subject, absolutely nothing,
like ‘Paranoid Android’ by Radiohead.
Still at times it can seem free-flowing,
like leaves to a tree as Keats said…
I would be a dam about to burst,
if I could but mention certain things:
but the respect of a woman has to come first,
so I’ll stick until the fat lady sings!
My tide is always out, researching –
the Google search engine of my senses –
and there is no truth immutable or over-arching –
and our dreams have escaped over fences!
