LIFE’S LIKE A GLASS HAT: Finding the horizon is one’s scalp

Sun up drop box leash & cur
Glassy legend folds side out
On medical pasta bubble blur
Unhappy look of frown and pout

Coffee roots metallic fur
Up line exit selected spout
Fortune’s dirt that hurts insure
Trade route winds without much clout

Then skirt and never build on her
Concrete air that art’s about
But circle power not quite sure
From smaller growths round and stout

Of ivy thought Sir Blanket burr
And all of those that go without.

Jeffrey Frisch – Copyright 2004