jdt@sdchema.UUCP (12/14/83)
Stage Fright
Twisted, turning mountain roads,
Carve a path from here to there.
Where to turn? When to brake?
Wonder why we cease to care,
Who we hurt, why we ache?
Pressed wood rooms encase our dreams.
Chrome plated faucets glitter and gleam.
Linoleum below becomes earth ground.
Attracted, sparks fly up and down.
Oblivious players, the show goes on.
Thankful for scripts to lean upon.
Jeff Thayer
12/83
San Diego