perched in an open cage
waiting for for
one more sign
(the gods have sent me many)
there’s this fear of letting go
for freedom is akin to
uncertainty
and i’ve always enjoyed
my cardboard security

the first twenty years of life
are spent defining yourself
writing a soulful
and incomplete script
watching waiting

while the next twenty
are spent
editing
filtering
aimlessly submitting
from one taskmaster to the next

most mornings i sit in this chair
surrounded by cats
a hair trigger of
unpredictable emotion
talking to myself in
hushed and half honest tones
more thought than action

the click of the keyboard
is more soothing
than the click of the hammer
and with a simple prayer
too much time is spent
on minute details

so many truths are nothing but
carefully crafted illusions
always just
one word
or
one touch
away
from a perceived perfection

reality however
keeps burning
slow and steady
like a forgotten cigarette

with no direction
and no goal
the script is
continually re-written
as if the answer
was something tangible
lying in wait
just over the the next horizon

there comes a point however
when refusal to ask why
is no longer an option

the mistress of karma
follows in the background
waiting to educate
and annihilate
this complicit avoidance

slavery and insanity
are two sides of the same coin
and i’ve had more than enough
pocket change to last a lifetime

the rent on this cage
is finally paid
and it’s now time
to wander the world
meager and free