To Survive
to survive i go for the golden mean
not so tall and not so short
the tastier, meatier part i suppose
is the middle part of the sandwich
the smoother flow is the middle
part of the river
the safer part is the middle in every
location
at the extreme right what do you get?
or at the extreme left?
i sing between
you extreme joy is killing you with arrogance
your extreme sorrow is killing you with hopelessness
you see,
i live in the middle of everything
not so hot and not so cold and they always call it
this paradise.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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