The tin can sat
It was prosaic
It was transient
It was not subject for mosaic
Unless one’s reaching is transparent
As is mine
Though uncannily my eye has glanced upon it
Just in time to tow the line
As a monument to transience it is most fit
It’s aluminum
So it will last
Coincidentia Oppositorum!
Such appeals to language past
Are as hollow
As the sound
That tap upon such cylinder would follow
Yes perhaps I have said a thing profound
To twirl curlicues round the mundane
Is all the rage
And though it’s vain I do it here again
O what an age….
The current year…
When even innocent beers must fear…
To unwittingly become a show…
Through a thousand windows electric glow…
