Finally some good volume.

Finally some good vultures.

It all comes spilling out,

Spilling out between the skin and bones,

Circumventing the fanatics and the cellular walls,

darting between all the held calls, and the rentals like traffic,

that all adds up.

this is all exhausting.

Finally it comes to rest at the shoreline,

all the blood and time and blue cars,

still significantly short of any rhymes, or sedans.

Desperately short on sand dollars, and four-wheel – drive, as well.

We all are thinking ,

finally we got a good haiku,

even if its a syllable or two , off .

Even if were still stuck in the sand,

and this is just a painting, anyways.