Like Hotcakes

they're too many
like hotcakes?

unlike hotcakes,
they do not sell

nobody is buying
no one is getting rich
no one is taking
everyone is simply giving in
giving up
and out and
weary.

someone out there has to change
the motif,

merry colors of pink and yellows
and lighter shades of blue

apron clothes and jumpers
short hair and
pouting lips,

got to change somehow
to something loud and faster

the rhythm of cycles racing to the finishing line
skis grating slicing ice

monotonous sounds of the waves on the shore
still rocks.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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