Behind a stern moustache he was
Afraid of rainbows. They destroyed
The natural order of imposed
Dominance and rigid structure.
A sneer dismisses all vestiges of
Hope and fancy as a child laying
On his back, admiring clouds on a
Balmy day and jabbing a fork in his
Forearm to displace enjoyment.
Stop the fun, halt the relish,
Live where dreams go to die,
An unreturned greeting.
