We're all on a road to somewhere.
Summer seeking
somewhere over the horizon
under a foreign sun
The warm neopolitan nights
revealing northern stars
Gazing at a stranger moon
bearing ancient scars
At a loss …
the Southern Cross
even the Milky Way
seem to have somehow
all gone astray?
The Happiness Report
from the pagan haven
of a guarded and gated
sunny seaside resort
Machine tooled
from a block of concrete
Then deposited
upon a mangrove swamp
along a once pristine coast
Now a checkpoint
and a guard tower
cast shadows
across the lungs of nature
dying of tourist cancer
Is Love
just another
four letter word
given a death sentence?
With loud voices
taking away choices
Sometimes too little?
Sometimes too much?
Such is life
in this world of strife
Where they’ll turn
your smile
into a frown
by hanging you
upside down
from the whipping post
known as Placebo Town
