Look at this arrangement
a well-spring engagement;
advanced stages of the plague.
It is mild entertainment
like the eyes picked out by ravens
or just little
idle joking demons
made for mayhem
to bring mayhem
like the whipped-cream to the cake.
I will stuff myself with cake
for cake’s sake
and then we’ll see
if the whipped-cream ties it all together
when the wind blows.
It is a laugh in the face
for face sake
When we string each other
up on trees
to hang and dangle in the breeze.
We tremble in the face of things
but in the end, what is a thing?
But nothing tied with packaging
and fancy ribbons
dangling like bodies in the wind.
In lies an excess of everything.
copyright: C. Ward 2016