The days pass by like

the wind that rustles the leaves 

changing green to brown 

 Everything is a 

joke, but nothing is funny 

when the bombs are real 

the dancers twirl in

hope of enlightenment — a 

connection to God

Commercialize it

from birth to death and the rest

to make us all slaves 

A funeral drum 

beats a tattoo too rapid 

to keep in time with 

Spinning plates crash down

when the juggler looks away 

for a split second 

Cagey ol' dogs have

survived on castoffs, cunning, 

and no need for care