how will we go?
in rain and flood then snow?
maybe quakes and fire
is what god desires
to end this freakish show.
and who will outlast
time’s destructive path?
the rich? the poor?
the ones who know more
and had brains so big
that they chose to dig
a hole in which to hide?
these fat little rats
with translucent skin,
white beady eyes, and
spines of small size,
will crawl in the bowls
with worms fear of owls,
hating each second they’re in.
squirming and whining,
they wish they were dining,
in the feast halls of days long gone.
till one day desire,
consumes them like fire,
and they creep back to the top.
the sun hits their face
and they vaporize in place,
cause they lost their old tough skin.
but there, just before,
they become nothing more,
a fancy site they will see.
the earth in a place,
a time and different space,
hurling itself 'round the sun.
what will be there?
a tom, dick and hare?
or bugs with six legs
and snakes laying eggs?
i guess no one knows,
till times decompose
and then we'll have an answer.
but be sure that one ribbon like song,
will sew the worlds together.
hummmm life moveth on,
strike times shaking gong,
and please will you pass me that…
ADDITIONAL NOTE:
wednesday night is The Rodson's debut in the folk-like rock band that is SOUTH HEIGHTS
pictures of this momentus occasion to follow
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