Role Distemper

Father time?
Mother ant.
Reality's plant.

Photosynthetic to an emergent T.
Biffled mounds, now stagnant towns,
too useful for the good.

Sweaty dichotomies take two by two 
from Orpheus's shoulder;
I'd rather turn around
than never see a flood.

Hell hath no dreary
like an unlit lane
and I'll take Dickens
for a walk at blight.

Say it ain't slow,
for macrostudies get quicked
when econohistorisociomethods
see how things outer be.

Take power, Juvenal, 
and you can plant your
fields of scorn
to bread what you have circused.

Leave a comment