abschweifen

Don’t wander too far,

little one, from your

wee world of pocket-

phones, pursehounds,

and bug-eye glasses. Don’t

wander so far you cannot

return to worship your

flat plastic god in concrete

temples, standing high as

watch towers to keep, guard

against that old world walled

out until grass unknown

grows in the potholes

and the butterflower

loses its grey shell

into the unkind park

of men. Don’t leave the

black webstrands to

drive down deep

tracks of dusty shale,

and be swallowed alive.

For the world you have

bound, beaten, and

buggered to make that

pretty picture under

your MySpace giggles,

still sits on the edge

of your civilized world,

Hungry.