Operation: Work; Lift-Face

Hand-fed triumph. Spoils

Battles which you can't recall fighting in

This fancies your fit

You settled down for a long winter's nap;

Simply grown tired of cheap thrills

But it's been years upon years

Of craving simplicities

Oh, the knavery/depravity!

Sentences become paragraphs

Become novels on cold fronts, warm backs

And this town needs an enema

I'll pass the time with a rhythm and a rhyme

That rhyme need a good once-over

But I'm no joker

I've seen people explode. Pieces!

You can't kill what's already dead

Subconscious white noise mauls prose

Odd, superfluous sounds

This is a physical challenge

Well beyond a double-dare

Commit to a legacy

On with all the fireworks and the parades

God-willing a momentum of silence

Silence!

It's what we'll all eventually have in common