Tiny Wind

 always in the deep end;

eyes as twin pennies

for no good reason.

the blues singer "cried

like a baby

when her baby went away"

last Friday night.

with wings,

a tiny wind

drives the immense blades of our tiny windmills 

driving the plates of this globe upward

driving flaming hearts inward

driving nothing at all

there will be no driving.

blind

blind

blind citizens of yesterday

repeatedly ripped off,

or sold,

an executive suite of lies.

on a road, they say,

is paved with good intentions.