This is the finish of the last glass
Before the whistle blows
This is the dregs of an old beginning
This is a moment when nobody talks
But everyone listens
When God spelled backwards nibbles his own tail
And bites the hand that needs him.
It's pure superstition
A belly-up parody of something real
It's a close encounter without an opinion
Nothing like this fear
Since Dragons swallowed the moon
No more remembers
No second guessing
The question has been asked and forgotten
A droll answer for a shallow point of view
A passing fancy
Without a leg to stand on
A total absence of punctuation
The ***-end of tomorrow
Trailing the sun like lost butterflies
Sham magic incantations
Masses black and white
Bittersweet strawberries scattered beside the road
Pigs rooting for dry tubers
And a darkness that lingers on and on
Like time in a test tube