A glassy class of free

Touch your future,

even if you can’t:

toxic passed is out of reach:

here to teach and learn

and return back to

the past which you yearn

to be our next.

And the stuff you have done

is now easily sung and shouted and

cantered: a gallop of luck and

maybe of fuck 

and uncertain step brings

home to you the

home you want which 

ain’t the

home you’ve got.

A glassy class of free, then,

might address and embrace

you.  

A glassy class of free

is your clear drink of be.

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