Restless Giants

So it's come to this

All virtues a-rusting

Grotesque form reforming

Rain-stained walls adoring

As they swarm along their pipelines

The air's all diesel and Dal Bhat

Murmurs and muttering

This places needs sheep

Like a hospital needs the sick

Perpetual purging

But it keeps things ticking over

Scrambling over so much priveleged rubble

The caustic hangover

Of our shame-ridden yesterdays

The key's in your clock

Burnished firebox, and wound

Strike while the iron is shod

Hour after hour they plod

Oscillations profuse

Into the clamour they sound

All tarred and feathered and set alight

Restless giants, sodden steps

In the dusk and the klaxon resounds

In their charred scattered husks

I built my scaffold

About the crux of matter

Imbruing red in old sand paper

Just scrape off the sin and eat what's left, darling!

Feed the flesh, feed the flame

Drive the swine of Gergasa

Into the bitter waves

Under the frenzied mule

To scavenge; infirm, decrepit beggars

The rivers are swallowing

Their own tongues again

Gagged with the overripe and spoiling

Their years, drawn up from the potential well

With a gurgling like melting wax cylinder

Such triviality! Such inconsequence!

What are the Polybotean to God?

Organic chains without pretence

Carbon murderous, soot-feathered and ripe

A dwelling for the void of vision

Vapid and finger-pointing

More propagation than gestation

A sad finale, played off-key

Cruel vaudeville, for sure