Mama came home, I paraded
with her hat and bag, look
how cute, take a picture, now!

The photo is still there
with some other ones
because they are nice

sometimes also because it's me
I recognize myself in a face
that I'm willing to show

and keep, fitting
to my mysterious self
of not getting caught

by my own eyes
that wish to see fire
the eternal fire

everything one soul in the cycle
of earth, water, and wind
in me

Everything flows, a coming
and going of opportunities
Flags blow everywhere
but I don't put poles
of certainty around me

My work and my relationships
are fluid, my fate
is not in my hands
not even in the lines
that fortune tellers read

Pleasure for myself
idealism for all
between the flippers and
the facades of the day and
the dreams of the night

The flippers of catastrophes
and consequences bang
on the bonces of power
the wheels of money and
the cannonballs of contempt