Sheep's Work Is Never Done

Sheep’s Work Is Never Done Life calls after sheep in morning to continue Everyone else sleeps in Hiding from the corporate coma for awhile People rise, at a later date, from beds dead tired Smiles crack on faces; lines move the traces of age around And break the new dawned day wide open You can’t count on sheep for anything They cut wood down in forest Place it into piles I know this can’t be done They have no work permits Their visas have expired They line up to be deported You can’t count on sheep when sleeping either They wake up freezing cold in wooden homes Catch colds, catch fire with the trees To burn the forest down Weep with matches hidden in the wool Call it an accident No one keeps the peace and secrets like death and sheep You can count on that Death takes everyone with it, with or without their visa Sheep move back to their own countries Work is never done there either, but To be continued