10,130. REALITY

REALITY 

I do sometimes wish I would just

go away, to where no one else can 

find me. Living like that could be 

great; a circular universe with a

timeless intent. No buzzing bees

watching Summer's maneuvers.

-

But then, would I talk, and if so 

to what? I could skip all that

bereavement and tempest of

others, and the desires of all

those yawning mouths. The long

and short, the short and long.

-

Here's that railway crossing I 

was thinking about  -  I'm by 

here too often. Seventy-One

stinking chemical cars. Boy,

I can hardly imagine.