Apr. 06, 2002 - 19:35 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

This Year

Come spring I usually go quite daffy, I used to gambol on the green sward and get googly eyed. Until they outlawed gamboling in public

The best time of year,

I've not depression deep,

But peace I fear,

Is nowhere near,

Like riding ball bearings on grease,

The world rolls near,

The edge of nothingness,

Oh, I yearn from strife, surcease,

Before seeking eternal sleep.

I am not much of a poet, but stirring deep inside my hide is the idea that the shine is off of Spring This Year . . . . . .

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