The Dry Self Monotone Conversation Poem by Wayne Falconer

Well I'm lost and found
my head is going round
another new spring day
and I'm on my word space way.

My woman's head in black book
wonder shall I steal a look
she does her best to ignore me
I'm imagining what can she see.

My son says lets buy mask for Halloween
think to myself what does he mean
whose into celebrating American way
what should this hippie father say.

Maybe say I'll keep it in mind
meantime I'm feeling almost blind
think about getting poem down
should I be poet or clown.

Shall I be vulgar or profound
intense or subtle image bound
is my heart million miles away
true or not I refuse to say.

Anyway my business this verse
the verse I nourish and nurse
growing to be words I serve
shall they bring smile or unnerve.

Outside blue skies unfold in rhyme
my senses are beginning to chime
thoughts are starting to inspire
anew day brings the muse fire.

Am I in tune in springs hold today
birds chirp creating rhythm play
think how life appears like dream
if you read between line what I mean.

Above love floats blue sky found
and I'm more up high than around
these days passing as my lifetime
think about last verse I'll rhyme.

In world fulla people quotation
good and bad, real, unreal sensation
sometimes thoughts full of elation
having this dry self monotone conversation.