Big Dreams on the marquee,
cutting through the dark curtain on the
an enzymatic catalyst
For some people who are expected to succeed, fail;
for some people who are expected to fail, succeed.
Late winter stars fall behind the marquee,
where do we go when we die?
To know the answer, will always be too late.
The lights of the marquee shine on
until the bulbs break and the solemn,
courteous stars meet once again with the desert.