"Inaction is a horrot on the mind
Forever acting. And it will not stop
Stopping. Your body hangs from a tree-top
Standing on level ground. The moments grind
Like something overdone, underrefined
Upon a mantle piece. A riding crop
Smacks the brain still. Gallop. Gallop. Gallop
In place. What is it that I heard just whined?”
That is the silliness of being here
Against the bed with ceiling in your face
While thinking gracefully into disgrace
As sudden sweat starts chewing on the ear
And there is nothing but yourself to face,
The metonym for everything you fear.
Stopping. Your body hangs from a tree-top
Standing on level ground. The moments grind
Like something overdone, underrefined
Upon a mantle piece. A riding crop
Smacks the brain still. Gallop. Gallop. Gallop
In place. What is it that I heard just whined?”
That is the silliness of being here
Against the bed with ceiling in your face
While thinking gracefully into disgrace
As sudden sweat starts chewing on the ear
And there is nothing but yourself to face,
The metonym for everything you fear.
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