remembering Picasso

how can a life be better

if there's no change in your pocket

or in your intention

not to mention

a desire to improve

as the trench keeps getting deeper

the enemy is approaching with a bucket full

of malice

while inside your palace

a temporary safe haven

that ultimately doesn't challenge 

or provoke

when you awoke

your saw the same face as before

the same smug sensations

the same desires

the emotional fires

tamped

down

the crowd milling around 

is the status quo

you really know

most everything is in peril

the hole is being filled with toxic dust

sex is good but ultimately unfulfilling

chilling

my beautiful Annabel Lee

as the sea meets the shore

plead

beg and implore

the level of anxiety

is getting higher

and the piano man

plays it again

his name is Sam,

of course,

the Paris lights remain romantic

eulogizing the sailing ship Titanic

filling it with regret and historical ice

don't think twice!

it's not Casablanca...

the Orcs are coming

into your dreams

full of schemes

with hatred and steely indifference

and the flower sellers along the shores of the Rhine

when the church bells chime

watch your barge from a distance

a bicycle built for two

is looking for you

you're on a park bench, resting

with a giant balloon in your hand,

remembering Picasso.