better to stay a secret
in our own universe
riding hobo rails
or trout fishing across time
dodging train yard cops
and Kodiak bears
being free to fail
or be devoured
in the wild
or overdose
on lollygagging poetry
and ecumenical oddity
such a better end
than succumb
to those
landlocked sharks
that chew away our time
branded
in sterile horror
we’ll show them our masks
—a wink and a nod—
and turn back to the real work
of salvaging our own souls
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