“Tell me the story
Of that sad little race
Of sad little people
In that sad little place.
You know – the ones
With the eyes and the ears?
With the false little hopes?
And the really huge fears?”
Ah! Gargantuan dreams
Those clever apes had,
– Built ships to the stars,
– Cleaved sky out of land.
Frenzied about
Doing This,
Doing That,
Never stopping to breathe
Until their bodies went
Splat.
Making up games
And drawing up lists,
Distracting themselves
From the great big abyss.
Every so often
They gathered and stood
And splat-ed each other
Over pulverized wood.
“What were they called?”
I’ve already forgot.
It seems as if yesterday
Has claimed the whole lot.
Paper Street Diaries 