Thursday, February 02, 2017

2.1736 : 2/2/10 : Postmodern

The beginning had begun to end but we didn't know it
whoever felt the cold touch didn't want to show it
the slow collapse had just begun
what comes after postmodern, we said:
fun, fun, fun
And the sun had set on easy money
for your friendly free agent poet
So is this the age of Pisces or Taurus or what
The seer had no desire to say what she saw
when the iron door shut
the disposition of the scales spoke louder than words
and the invisible finger wrote "cull the herds"
and I heard somebody finally say, man
this is a canyon not a rut
3 years after the high tide broke you know
I appeared on the scene
the prince of all who borrowed fat against
tomorrow's lean
You won't be laughing when you see my face
or grasp what it really is I aim to replace
You better place your bets: in ten short years
That slate will show, hideously clean

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