reality computation
capacities must be meager
after ages of harsh abuse
have been served, these without dessert
much less flavorful aperitif….
yeah these routes went up in black smoke,
routes meaning slivers to freedom;
but may a reader lend an ear
and understand treatment unique
steers way clear of the ultimate
rocky horizon sphere.
Now this went way off track after
the fourth if not the second line;
words these days bear little likeness
to what (and heck, might as well say
Who) they were in another age.
You see, when in this world back then
Poetry was a hidden love.
Timmy the Scribbler 