I’m going to become a broadscape of chattering
Little chipmunk in my hair
Rattling long speeches
The great Lizard Man would be proud of
Epic monologues
Banter and rebut
Soapboxing my way towards
An immobilization
Frozen by complex axioms
Criss-crossing a deserted wooden chair
Supported by bent half inch plywood
That understands my troubles
Like the Lizard Man does.
Who could have guessed it?
Lost in that immediate broadscape
Of endlessly lost wisdom.
Tag: soapbox
Awake Art (day 1583)
This is my awake art.
This is breath and stretching loudly
While pouring everything strong
Into a collapsed set of lungs
To be prepared for an avalanche
Of oncoming strategies
And cross-hooks
Set to dazzle
Even the most magnificent of
Gentleman preachers
Standing atop
Wooden keg soapboxes.