(untitled)

Is the sky blue
Or does he look up
And in all sanity
Witness red--plain and usual

Is the grass green
Or does the fat
Reflection seem
To be seen lean

Why in his melancholic,
Fetused, feverished stupor
Does he play the scenario
Over and over...

A past life revisited
Only to reveal
A man's perceptions
To be anything but real

Strange, these elements
Cause to question
The ground he once
Stood firm, trusting.

He need only look down
And trust his eyes
To life or death--
They will guide him.