SCOPE of poem? Uncertain, but not to create cliché.
BLOKE, yes. Bohemian, yes. Musician, yes.
ROACH—no. So, what’s he high on? Life? This poem does not know.
BONGO? It’s the focus here: the rhythm’s about to start.

SPLAT, drone note of my life’s score.
SAVVY, tempo sometime signals upswing.
MORON, unwelcome annotation.
DROSS, common in this composition. Yet some notes true.

FARCE of common good and common life: to count a person’s
WORTH in currency of culture’s wars. The tribes
BARGE in, dragoon troops, demand oaths.
THERE is a greater mode: of shared delight; for this brief together while, we all live.

PASTE a print with ravishing colors; it cannot rival the true scene, sky and clouds
AGLOW. Rising sun streams out beauty, as at the dawn of creation.
RIDER pauses to behold and thinks:
WHERE do I go from here?