Angles a’jangle and elbows akimbo,
Eyes and limbs askew.
A hem hanging down and a tilt-a-wheel hat
defined all life that he knew.
Life was a cobblestone complete with a trip
On each and every third stone.
Storms with gale force winds was all he had every known.
The wind ripped his umbrella backwards.
Rain danced familiarly on his head.
Life was left of center
with elusive bits of brightness
that sparkled in the labyrinth of his head.