THE END AT THE END OF THE ROAD
I stumble forward—trudging along until
I see my imagination-enriched view
of the end of the road.
But I see no Pearly Gates
or hand of God to greet me—
not even a Dead-End sign.
Just a pile of rocky rubble
With a graffiti-scribbled question:
How have you managed to walk so far
with your head up your ass?
Milton P. Ehrlich 199 Christie