LEARNING TO PLAY THE WORLD

I'm not a great one for trouble

I let the hordes go by


meandering after them I see

their dust is a disappearing gargoyle's head


their passing is a smudge on the day

and before I know it


I'm on top of the hill in twilight

some scowling invisibility wailing in the the stars


blind and deaf to our presence but not to the degree

as to raise lament up from the ground


as the hordes filter back inquisitively

and I see from my vantage a way of secrecy


that could not draw a hordes's attention because

I'm not a great one for trouble (though it still takes work


to avoid it so there's some kind of benefit to someone)












Content (c) 2008-2015 Philip Milito.