April Fool's Landscape - Judith E. Ficksman

    Three men drift passing in a lifeboat
    Three men drift passing in a fog
    Three men are searching for a savior
    On a river that's wide and long

    There's people still dwelling on the mountain
    There's people still dwelling on the past
    There's people expecting something to come down
    And the first are following the last

    The prophet is standing on the corner
    His pockets are empty yet full
    The tide of the crowd rushes by him
    And he feels its mighty pull

    An old man lies dying in a desert
    An old man lies dying alone
    An old man is tempted by a devil
    Who appears in a guise unknown

    The children are playing in the garden
    They're playing grow up to be
    The children believe that real life happens later
    But it goes on constantly

    And Socrates sat week days by the roadside
    And thought about all that he saw pass
    And he knew too much to throw a stone
    And he drank from the poisoned glass

    Some men are orbiting the planet
    Some men have walked upon the moon
    But no man is certain of the future
    Will the end be long corning or soon

    And Johnny plants apples by the roadside
    And Albert builds castles in the sky
    And my son John has only one sock on
    And only he knows the reason why

    The writer is scribbling in a corner
    The song is life itself
    Love is a paranoid schizophrenic
    While logic lies a vestige on the shelf

    © 1982 by Judith E. Ficksman


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