Thoughts on life, love and faith by Plasticmind.

Change...
Jingles in the pocket of my faded jeans
As I shift to my right leg and wait for the man
In the telephone booth.
His jaw is pumping and his veins have surfaced
While his wrath is being poured out
On a six inch piece of hard plastic.
His hands flail in time to his rantings,
Muted bellows about:
Change...
Cool and hard as it slips and plinks down
Into the inner workings of a single mechanical tentacle
Of a giant squid
Writhing and pulling
At the timbers of this ship,
Then, almost as a warning-
A tone, then a voice,
Cooly informing me of:
Change...