Give It Up

Rescue the drowning and tie your shoestrings. - Thoreau

frothing at the mouth

fickle sea smashes against unyielding, black rocks

cauterizing sun burns, microwaving thick and thin skin alike on earth's turntable

winds of indifference try to muss balding heads and peacock plumes to no avail

well-manicured, ardent grounds are rained upon at dignified cemeteries

young girls stand in front of litigious mirrors, contemplating their bodies

another day turns to night and back again

a cell phone clock chimes, pretending to be big ben

rocking chairs creak along with the cartilage of those sitting in them

here and now morphs into remember when

demons clasp their hands together as they dance on pigeon-toed feet

looking  down into the bowels of earth

uttering in unison, "amen"

Author's Note

None are so old as those who have outlived enthusiasm. - Thoreau