clear sky cold  descending,
scrambled
mind like an egg, impending
communications
signal so lost, on depending,
a present frequency
that can carry the weighty
scale
of injustice pales to the moonlit
verse read
of a Shakespearean tragedy
peppered
and salted
to taste
no waste
well not yet, clearly
as the
past is
tense
and the Twain shall never meet,
Mark my words