what happened
to the jack-in-the-box
its crank and its surprise
is no longer one
where was the turn of the century
while I was sleeping in the grass
watching the clouds float by
waiting for the night
sky
and what happened
to the life
when we knew of it
and the places that were so nice
and free
and we could wander
without all these questions
“who are you?”
“why are you?”
oh where is that place
that knows no bounds
that is awake
what happened to
all the mushroom
clouds
the ones needed
to take away
where is the fire
that used to burn so bright
but now has been snuffed out
leaving us in the dark
reaching out
trying to grab at something
that is not there
I have not found my mountain
that I have been searching for
nor have I found that green grass
that I know is out there
I have searched all over
but to no avail
oh
what happened to this
jack-in-the-box
with the music and the crank
that is now rusted
and won’t turn