Minerva System
9.
Indeed I remember the Cyclops in December
He’s quickly becoming a prop or a mop
The public pool now brimming with crudeThe park
In its infinite wisdom a blackoutYour father’s
Business is the business of simulationA finch
On a tree branch’s long budding line
Where on earth is my mother when I blister
The sun burning down through the net
Of our livesThere’s a thing with one eye
That looks hurtCan you feel it?Going going
Goner and so green we I can tasteThe cows
On their stilts getting stuck in the heavens
Minerva Minerva they love you on purpose
Your ambulance breastbone terrific