23 March 2011


Doesn’t frustrate – merely 
sieves treasonous remnants 
of dislocate reason randomly, 
nearly no dramas evident 

But it’s what you make of it – no 
pay breaking a game set in aspic 
so to speak, of faking salient 
elements off a serving plate 

When you’re so far off the pace 
where the cookie crumbles don’t 
matter a piece; for opportunity 
you’re already way too late 
© 17 December 2010, I. D. Carswell