I walk the sky with the swallow, the vulture, the eagle
Gaining altitude on each escapade,
Losing dignity to the wind of time and age;
News permeates rock crevices
And there I stand,
Knocking on rocky doors,
Ready to turn wormy crawly,
If only audience can be sieved into my lap,
Attention capped on a head bowed low.
Beneath the celestial ball,
A corpse lay buried,
And the vulture smells it out,
Her sensitive nostril dancing to the music of deadness;
I brace windstorms carrying the force of eternity,
Turn into pathfinder python to forge a trail,
Careless of the monkeys’ mocking from tree branches,
Attentive only to oceans rising and falling in the inner recesses.
News was seen on high ground,
And I grab my climbing gear,
The tortoise’s mate has climbed a tree,
Dragging along only progeny,
And tortoise has lost his only choice.
News stepped onto the internet,
And a ladder crashed into glass walls,
Squeezing the collapsible bottle
To render drops of access
To the one sought after;
The hold-back glue draws in anger,
But success evades every grasp.
News collects into congregation one,
Sneaks into congregation two,
And I take a first ride there,
Peeping, straining forward.
News has birthed cyber worlds,
To generate income atop mountains,
To showcase the multiplier within living contraptions,
And to that venue I move in search of the one.
Yet the dog runs after the cheetah
And Mr. tortoise takes a walk with miss squirrel.
The search embraces futility,
Lending a hand to tiredness,
Unnoticed, ignored, rejected,
Until the hand reaches out to collect the final quitting card.
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