posted February 22, 2009 12:23 PM         

And over, and over, and over it swept
The musings, the chosen page,
the indices of fate

All the maudlin beginnings
had posed regular insult
the generation of scarified
had taken its toll
It was obvious to some
but never so to me
I wandered through that twilight world
with no special place to be

And over, and over, and over it swept
The cylinder, that buffed me,
rolled over incessantly

On fever pitch now
the ruling class had lunged
all the dogs that toiled for Pavlov
were working over time for nothin
The catalogues were racking
the tabloid press were pushed
all the erudite and swollen heads
were taking siesta in the gym

And over, and over, and over it swept
Cruelly located, and satisfied
only with theft

But journey it was
and details sincere
driven out on a promenade
and left there to smoke
The purse strings were strained
the desolation framed
all the harangued moments of spitting glory
left on tesselations to dessicate