Lions Mane

An ode to those

on their devices

cultivating avarices

not that we might

need more vices

tis a slope as

slick as ice is

Here am i this

bag of bones

flesh and blood

and random stones

My restless spirit

longs to saddle

up the horse and

we’ll skedaddle

Farther from

the techno world

where brains and dreaming

stirs and swirls

Driven by old

fossil fuels

a rip tide pulls

a ship of fools ~