Bread And Circus©
A catchpenny of thoughts
Muddle through interstices of sleep
And waking stupor,-
Tightrope walkers all,
Yet with no purpose or will
Belie this make-believe demesne
Of our life proper:
These Ideas though inconsequential
Bear some kinship to causes
Which we defend with tooth and nail
Under a scorching Sun.
As reverie to our dreams at night
This sordid bread and circus of existence
Must relate somewhat with life infinite?
benny
12-27-06
