Pleading for a purchased god
Romanticized for its ancien régime
Celiac, and yet I licked the wheat paste
Of the letter I was was trimmed A4
In all that time spent by the basin
(and its traffic-trimming wetlands)
I only rode my bike to the depot
To color code my calendar
When capital kept its calls collect,
When the gravy train kept me idle
Each chamber would be emptied
Fruitlessly: punch drunk with praise
(Indulge a little)
Each from four through five: orchestrated
The plains always claim the sixth
(Respecting the tradition of western folk)
Only three will ever threaten treatment
A stream-of-consciousness bout of grief over a gravy train and the threat its indefinite departure presents.