Each year, we depend on winds returning,
each year, we watch richest of hoarders lose,
every thing, to a storm. And ten years later,
do it again, as if there were a curse for stupid.
As a messenger from goodness knows where,
clowns as fox like fools, all my foxes,
come from Disney Studios, I must admit.
Though there is a curio-resemblance I have seen
fox-related news old so it is, so it is,
the Katsina embodied and festooned in regalia
its apron a half-fox, hindlegs and long fluffy tail,
same design as on the T-shapes at Gobekli-Tepi
representing an idea from the wild blue yonder,
we are passengers,
we are not in charge, and there is no place like home.
Once you land, and root, and sprout, and pierce the sky,
to feel the changes, as the earth wobbles around the sun.