There may be a line
But it’s only pretend
Where gnosis recedes
Warfare begins
Bad dreams disowned
Flashback delayed
Watching falling thrones
Instant tape replayed
Celebrity target
Terminal fashion
In the time
Of the assassins

Center can’t hold
When the boom lets down
And no one tries to stop it
In the land of the mindless
The half-wit is king
And the suicide is prophet

Envoy of the sun
On a ten-grain run
Through the shattered mosaic
Of a life
Where fortune is decreed
From the algebra of need
And the double-edged blade
Of a knife

There’s nothing very permanent here
Where the past gets paved
Over pretty quick
Image broker at the terminal pier
Paid off the DA
Trying to make it stick
Now there’s too much ice
In the frigid air
Jimmy crack corn
And I don’t care
Directions written
In a foreign hand
Hieroglyphs etched
Into the sand

In the Western lands…


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