Two Fat Flies
Sat drink in hand and glanced two fat flies,
Flying around each other,
Performing great feats of skill,
Spinning in circles,
Lost in time.
He glanced again and realised
There only was a turning fan
Cooling the scorching air in the midst of the night,
In the midst of a year,
Thus, he pondered his thoughts,
Thoughts which spined around
Amongst many thoughts,
Blending in and mixing with reality,
Being realised only in the mind.
The day, the night,
What difference do they hold,
What monstrosities do they see
In a never ending world of violence and crime.
Thought made no difference in a world of such things
Where life and death Meet hand in hand,
Keeping everything rolling, everything the same.
Two bells toll
Bringing thoughts of the mind back to reality,
To the twirling fans,
To the drug of humanity,
To the packet of deep fried potatoes
With an artificial flavour,
To the feeling of existing as a fan,
Leading back to life itself.
|Copyright Stuart V Cook © 1997-2004|