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The stage is all bare.
Many fans gaping to stare.
On with the channel - T.V. friends.
Here thry come - time to spend.
Some with a wacky - exotic music show.
Others plain - sleeptime - bore - and hello.
I sometimes play there image parts.
Kids on the street - others in marts.
Copycat wonder - in terror full life.
Like robotic clones becoming ripe.
All in cars upon the roads.
Eat this food - good and slow.
Must do this, that, tip your hat.
Napkin in lap - without a stare back.
Only coffee after dinner - yes cream.
Suit, , and tie - neat and proper clean.
That style for the very rich.
Copycat wonder - the mad new pitch.
Brokers and sellers on lines at the bank.
MILKED LIKE SHEEP - NO SLEEP LAST NIGHT.
from my poem book - DREAMS 3
