a chameleon approximates his environment
to fit in
takes on the colors of survival
when the going gets thin
what sounds hot
is what he's got
when he wakes to look in the mirror
he is alone a lot
planning the day ahead
and colors he chooses to wed
ones that have their uses
paints on the palate of excuses
as the wind-blown bag
sticks to his teeth with juices
what else mediocrity reduces
in a one on oneself game
of sudden death goals
in a rink without fans
what does it net?
when one is adrift at sea
with a fighting tiger and orangutan
in a life of pie
in the sky
making sense of clouds
passing him by
August 21, 2017
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