Thursday, March 14, 2019


ides of March and so begins
the quickening
this construct we've come to adore
will falter and collapse
'til just beyond the fool's day door
when services do lapse
the carcass then to be consumed
by none other than it's mother
and we abandoned to a sea
of lesser capability
will struggle after this eviction
to maintain a sad addiction
to a lopsided interdiction
lacking smell and taste and touch
beyond the haptic key vibration
and with the whimper of
that pathetic fingertip buzz
what once a mighty roar was
will naught but echo be

© 2019 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

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