Sashay Poem by Cee Bea

Im So tired
of upheaval and broken displays.
its apparent that the crow
once more flew west
leaving
what was left of the
Coupe de Ville
for the buzzards

good god man...
I hear as I drift away,
again in a dream like
state of disarray.
Good God

But my answer is maintained.
there is no answer
and if there was
I would surely share that with you

Love is even more fickle
a tempest, whom's sashay
has worked myself
and many others
into a hormonallather

but she never asked for that
I did