By the way
Soon the birds will chirp again,
Here at the silent station of damp stones,
Dare I say in troubled times?
There he lies with his head over my house
In a citadel among the wilderness
Hidden between the fields and the mountain frame
A civilised state, an emblem of a simpler history
Than that of nations and their trials through time
As we go along, trundling into the unknown
Driven by the known by the knowing candidates
Promoted above their station no longer needing the trains
That bind the society physically through constant movement
For unreckoned reasons much deeper than the obvious motives
Of mere survival of the fittest - whatever that means,
Investigation into which is a fruitless delusional exercise
That drove Marx into a moral fever pitch felt between the legs
From where all truly important thoughts have always derived.
By the way,
No irony is intended in any sense or form.
Bevagna, 10 3 2021, 23:06