It’s hard to see big picture

when living

 P  I  P

control remote

and foreign quote

captioning the screen

♦

it’s difficult to fathom

but streams can branch like trees

so far from base

there is no trace

of route on cyber seas

♦

at least the going’s smoother

meeting face-to-face

‘cause hips don’t lie

and nor can eye

edit and replace

♦

with little fanfare

and less confetti,

the ticker tape

parade was

hard to find

–without

floats and

more grounded,

it was

easier to miss

–lacking Zeppelin

and less blimpy,

it was altogether

not as televised—

still.

the few flag wavers

in attendance

were

no bench

warmers.

Moody

Moon Loved

Tall’n Fit

even from the

Dark Side

no love

was

crater

😀

 
I went to playground

–surprised to find

I’d built a highway there. . .

half-remembered, and

thorough fare–
 
 
 
I’d dozed

–swings & slides

and basis, for

released monkeys

to bars beyond labs

a doozy dizzy, and right fine dog

in such a merry-go-round,

razed hell

on earth,

and all the best

trees

for

(hide)

&

> seek <

&

k

i

s

s

i-n-g

2

–and floundered, then

. . .

for a

moment, long

in kid years, long–

and all

agape

I shrugged it off,

never

the

less

–and all the more–

the instant I spotted

hole in chain link

yet existed,

and

shimmying under

with scrapes to my elbows,

and

loamy stains to my jeans,

and only

1 prick to my back, I

kicked canned

incidentally.

Skipping

the hole way

to Cullen’s Corner,

to milieu, too

–spending time on 2 cent candy,

and cash

on balsa gliders.

Math’s a piece

of cake,

A constant slice

of PI,

a wedge that starts

In tiny tarts,

3, 1

4, 1

5.

Numbers

can be

suite.

All they need

is space.

some primary,

some binary,

the rest are aggregate.

Sum of all

is mold,

Parts of sum

are grate,

a mix that makes

so many cakes,

depending on your taste.