The British Are Coming
The British
are coming
or is
it the
Ink Spots
someone with
strange markings
on his
forehead &
on the
soles of
his feet
someone with
sun spots
& a
halo of
global warming.
It’s so
hard to
know who
the enemy
is these
days it
could be
just about
anyone a
frail old
lady pretending
to cross
the street
a basketball
player with
dainty feet
sometimes it’s
a radical
transformation
of your
best childhood
friend from
another life
with different
rules where
when people
talked they
talked to
your face
so you
could see
their eyes
a time
of wild
horses &
merry go
rounds &
gold rings
to be
snatched from
the night
sky a
time with
long stretches
of silence
filled with
heartbeats
& laughter
rang out
everywhere.