Bags of Leftovers

Things happen. Life unravels The earth spins, perpetuating processes And as we recount our travels Our hearers marvel Stories of prophets' heads on silver platters Representations of old things And we should be somehow flattered By images of our saggy bottoms and flaked skin All the expected supreme annoyances In bags of leftover promises Encased in increasingly cryptic codices We're patching up until the expert arrives I look forward to an immense surprise For now, we can all be Lazarus Sitting at the gate, all cadaverous Hold my wings while I fly I don't want to fly too low or rise too high We are all Lazarus, waiting to exhale Picking up crumbs, pushing carts Domesticating stray dogs. Swatting flies In alleys and under bridges. What a sight It's like writing a hard exam Roger, confirm your position I'm flying over the flyover, over Ah, Roger Things happen. Life unravels Things fall apart Unexpected turns, astonishing events Surprises and disappointments Spilled milk, blood, sweat and tears Broken hearts and shakedowns Past failures and future fears Betrayals, travesties Misplaced loyalties. Broken trust Uncollected royalties Missed opportunities, misplaced sympathies Mishandled moments. Misplaced comments Unforeseen challenges. Broken sewers Outbreaks and breakouts Roger confirm You are observing this insanity I'm flying over the fly over, over Ah, Roger