On Your Trail

If I had time to burn

I’d wage a campaign

against pretentious

self-help gurus,

peddlers in promissory notes

hinting at lavish

satisfactions,

delivering only dry

cardboard cutout results.

Beware of all the snake oil!

Who can possibly know

the unique demands

drawing you out,

into yourself?

This soul making,

not much of a day spa –

more like playing

capture the flag,

blindfolded.

Oh, go ahead,

spew forth your

gobbledygook

you darling

charlatans.

I’ve never been

much for violence.

In all seriousness,

I really do not have the time.

Too much wasted on

firewater and grand schemes.

This impostor complex of mine

a worthy enough opponent,

keeping me pinned to the mat

well beyond any three count.

Enough of all that.

I must be going.

The trail is fresh.

She passed this way.

I can feel it.


(Vamos, vamos, vamos…)

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