looking on

there was a con being sold

dress like this say these things

think you will

the same as everybody else

& I look back now

fading photographs hanging there

still to remind to look

what is up for sale now

what furrows must we run

fenced corrals of ideas

be pushed into my minds eye

fashions they come & go

but there is a hand there

a beady eye

guiding the weak of flesh

forcing the wind in the sky

go this way

think these things

& all will be well

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