Forgotten Land

Burburp brrburr burbrr . . .

gray-brown gray-black
darkness falls free flowing
yellow salt-taffy pulling

stretching eternal lines flashing
slicing straight toffee tarmacs
reddish blues greenish yellows

lazily hazily blinking
no one seeing the black snake
streaking eternally another day

slithering toward somewhere going
no where . . . a man lies on the side of
the road head propped against a pack

long greasy hair blowing beard tangled
blending eyes closed to the brightness
sleep has interfered and . . .

hardly moving few notice
the figure lying on the hardness
under the blue December sky . . .

a wasteland lies ahead . . .
we can’t any more and so
we just continue to roll along

. . . burbrr brrburr burburp.

Dan Hanosh
Dreams Are Yours To Share

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