Your bad hours fizz

in a squirming glass,

and as cheery as they

had previously seemed

you require the waitress to

please change these flowers -

they're fake;

this head, please ... this universe ...

Hope the bellowing coffee

can fill you without any serious

danger of overflowing.

Yesterday

you only needed to pin down

the laughing words;

today you're th...

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I guess that at one time or another - if we're being honest - we've all been blinded by the white hot heat and light of our fantasies, dreams, and ambitions; as poets it's practically in our job description to be thus.

The following poem owns up to flying too close to that particular sun, and the resultant crash-and-burn,

That doesn't mean we shouldn't keep trying for the impossible though ....

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