Strange and Prophetic Days, Indeed

"dedicated to my Celtic pal Bill Fitzsimons"

To know that though true men turn to ruins,
true principles are never swallowed by confusion!,

to learn that this spinning globe
is of such Dynamic constitution!

to see the Fogs of war
commence their glorious dissolutions!

to taste Country plums
growing by neither cog nor wheel!

to step outside the boxy mind
and Feel! the winds a'changing

to Smell fresh cups of joe
as ideas they are exchanging

to sense that the magnates of the earth
shan't fly forever unweighed
by their Albatrossian crimes!:

see, THESE!, fo sho be prophetic times