If Anyone Has Heard From Or Seen Vienna Tell Her We Are Still Poetry There

IT’S RAINING AND THAT ROOF SPEAKS “That’s the way a cookie always crumbles” And how sneakers in the clothes dryer tumbles It’s also the way the ocean and its waves are tossed And now I’ll describe the ways in which I keep getting lost I would come upon and plod a pristine purple and pink path But that path would lead to a road raging with rampant wrath I’d come upon a quaint little cabin that would become a house built of pain With a roof riddled by the unreasonable that couldn’t protect me from the rain I’d find a sunny stained-glass window that would darken even in daylight I’d find the safety in a lady’s embrace that would soon turn to fright I’d happen upon a place wherein I could hide from a world in which I don’t fit in Or I’d find a devoutly devoted woman whose sanctity suddenly turned into sin So I may as well be a cookie, sneakers in a dryer or a well threatened sea Because the temptation of a pristine path often leads to where I don’t want to be The silence of a comfortable cabin suddenly begins to speciously speak And every time I find a cabin like that the roof always seems to leak © 2012 copyright PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~