I believe the ivory moon at the edge of the sky
regrets its last choice.
I believe the wind in the mountains
is whispering its purest wisdom.
I
believe the aging starlet
cruising Ventura Blvd. remains hopeful
for
love and money,
though her trackmarks
are still fresh and enflamed.
I believe guns are not the problem,
but that triggers and bullets are,
without doubt, the devil's work.
I believe the motorcycles heading for the ocean
are stealing what's left of our sanity.
I believe the soldier who sleeps
fitfully in the foxhole
is simply dreaming
of parades and backyard bar-b-ques.
I believe that nothing is worth anything.
But there are times when
I believe
a red/lavender sunset
and a swig of good beer erases the
remaining melancholy
and prepares you for the earth.
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