Ian Ganassi
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Whichever way you turn the signs are there.
“Do tell.”
From whence does the change come,
Accumulating like snow in a blizzard?
The dragonfly knits the landscape together
In the bright beams after the rain.
I believe we were never better off.
It’s mighty hot down here. Crazy cold.
The sign over the toilet read “flush twice.”
We never knew why, but we did it anyway.
Bring me a shrubbery, save us a trip,
Keep me abreast, stop fooling around.
I breathe therefore I believe
That that’s what it’s all about.
What what’s all about?
The hoochie coochie
Or the hokey pokey or the guaracha;
It all comes down to eye level.
Hawkins and Perkins had a rough time of it—
They were too easily confused.
And at the black tie dinner the CEO announced
That mushrooms are for displacing dead wood.
There’s no shortage of either.
Take the paneling, the wainscoting;
It might fetch something as scrap.
I believe I’ve had enough,
Which leaves something to be desired.