Have you ever thought about
wandering wild
where blue tigers run free
and green grass grows?
or where not much ever happens
except one thing: Dancing Monkeys.

This thought has crossed my mind on a variety of occasions.
Wandering wild, not among tigers, but among my thoughts.

Just the other day I was walking down the street and coming from a window two stories up I heard a woman’s voice:
“you don’t get to touch the children”
The voice was calm and relaxed.
In fact, considering the subject matter, quite composed.

Words like these can lead to a variety of conclusions,
but from a voice so soothing, I chose to ignore it, and continue on my way.

I refuse to believe that woman’s voice would be so vocally calm
if her children were actually in danger.
But I guess, in this world, there are nothing but possibilities.

There are three houses on my street.
All three of them look exactly alike.
as if there was a sale on blue siding and white picket fences that week.
and it makes me wonder . . .
We believe we are all different;
each of us an individual,
all sent on different paths,
coming from different directions.
but are we just like the houses?
Are we all merely assembled from identical bargain products intended for some greater purpose?
Some purpose that we’ll never understand.

They say that people should be with people
and that sometimes people are just too stupid to realize it.

I once knew a man like that.
I once knew a man who did nothing but wish he were alone.
And I believe that man felt empty.
I could see it in his eyes; darkness, emptiness, nakedness.
He was one of those “lost souls” you always read about in the newspapers.
You know the ones.
Each page with another story,
another path not taken,
another life, ended.
and all the while I am forced to wonder . . .
Is that all it said
about the future,
about your future,
about our collective future?

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