All dressed smart in my red guard uniform
Balancing alert on the edge of a geranium
My brow dips and rises at the bugs
Funny eyes that are scary, says a chum
Dirt and whites and a teeth of sad cell,
Or cruise ship chat room quip kick and quell
Fumetti comics, head-sketches, fortune teller, lite letter
Rewrote, precise, not to mistune my receptor
Today, the atlas has a ring around
Yet the mercury box is not moving
Everyone came grieving around
The stuffed owl stands atop that closet
From dust our memories ignore.
The way the earth is moving, closer
Looking down, looking out,
can you really be so sure?