... a poem

Star, clown and bivouac

Susie takes her clothes off for strangers in a bar;

Carl waits hopelessly for a ride under the hot sun at the edge of town;

Brenda’s beaten up by the man she loves, but still goes back.

Each of them would say they never meant to go this far;

That they’ve been dragged, not kicking and screaming, but quietly, down;

That we, too, would be powerless when fate attacks.

They’re not completely lost – the door is still ajar;

Time is not running out, but merely runs around;

Knowing this is easy, but getting back on-track

Is not.