Print It!

How do you measure how many prints you will leave in the snow today?
Do not disturb. Don't rock the boat. Keep out of the limelight. That
sort of thing?

Will your toe gently flick the drifted sands aside like a child
playing with a plate of cold spaghetti?
Or will it buy a ticket and leave a big Size 10 right in the middle of
the action.

Even as we print our marks and mark our territory, we imprint others,
we mark their territory.
They must decide how much to allow. Or not decide and follow the
swell. Logic after all, let's face it, is boring.
Too much = heartache. Too little = heartache.

Why not try every new piece of music out there? Spotify will let you.
But are you sure you won't drown, get confused, exhausted, scared
you're missing something better, truer?
Isn't it better to stick to that well-loved album whose inflections
and scratches you know by ear and by heart?

Where will you dance your dance hall days...in the shadows or in the
lead? At risk of cold, or safe in the front room having set fire to
the third bar?

I say put your muddy footprints all over the carpet.
That's why we have mud.
That's why we have carpet.
That's why we have domestic staff.

And it you have something true to say, step occasionally into the limelight.
That's why we have limelight.