I can see myself
wrapped in puzzles
around press fingers
getting headline blues

all things considered
to be but the obvious
shackled jaw thought
arouse away innocense

furtive turns commercial
valiant and outragous
open the mail bag
dad sends love

he who holds a camera
may use it for protection
the pencil's been your sword
the words' stab new direction

the mighty mouth has groan
let the wind blow this as so
even trees do bend in pain
and the sky cries out in rain

horns carry clouds of gold
the rams turn to dust
fall do the masks of fate
for time is never late
when the meek sigh
relief.

by L. HONAS