a leg a’sea


i’m a bad person
who sometimes does something good
it’s impossible
to be a good person
who never does anything bad
it drives one crazy to think so
or worse – self loathing

what’s good for the goose
not good for the hen house

junk yard dogs are not born mean
change the environment
change the man
woman or child

dead or alive
true selves

the old lady pauses at her keyboard
young dog greets her politely
daughter behind the door smiles
broadly proud of her protege
someone had disposed of

torn tender by the shreds of life
grieving when a flower dies
joyously a new bud blooms
she will pick up the sticks
when i go home
bounce the ball
hop the scotch
tear down the walls
of separation