the answer to everything

wander loosely, through this topsy, somewhat
turvey and ramblesome day, cause there are
wonderments to be found, left out on the sidewalk
maybe discarded, maybe simply lost

it may not be commonly known, as known as
iberian expletives, kazhak mortal curses, it may not be
simply understood, like dynamic field theory
that a penny found is a penny compounded
by luck

and under the guise of a nose knows, that dystopian
monniker, lie on your fallow path all sort of
combobulations, unclassified, with no schematic
counterpart, lying in perfect isolation and with no
small charm

yet you pass them by, sparkling silver dimes, rare
precious cartouche that may foretell, may capture perfectly
the future that you've sought, in rhapsodic detail
an enigma stone for fame, didactic yet profound

are you a bit beclouded, tired from jumping with the
grasshoppers, sharing mushrooms with your swamis
reluctant to bend for nickels, crouch for quarters
filling your pockets with snarks and jelly bellies

life flops about unhinged, on occasion, says your mother
that rampant maid-of-honor, tending to mauve satin sheaths
brown edged gardenias, tending to slippery satins
under 400 count sheets, clinically dispensed blues

says your pa, retired from his life of semis, from
detecting radar and radio shacks, says your wiccan
therapist encircling you with chalks and candles,
as it flops about unhinged as lucy with her henna

perfect toes, steak tartar, probably unattainable
for a weary hoofer left to fend the streets, flying low
with unshaved legs, just a snap away from the cross-eyed
blears, a few shame less tears, idly wondering why