Life is a disaster, glowing trouble
With the power to manipulate the clock.
It burns when it’s happening,
It’s cold when it’s not.

But the undefined, the refined
Sign minds over to the red.
Virtually pleased in Life,
But now they are Dead.  

Life is a disaster, a blur
Of unrelated miscues but gifts.
Hospitals fill with the fearing
God followed with -

Boring sensations, wasted hands
Rotary club bands, phone booth’s
Close – no return;
Knowledge of true prose.  

When it’s gone, it is missed,
But when it’s around, it’s dismissed.
And it falls in abyss,
And it’s round like a fist.

Life is a disaster, glowing trouble
With the power to manipulate the clock.
It burns when it’s happening,
It’s cold when it’s not.