Thursday 6 November 2008

Poem. (Inspired by recent events). By Soupbucket.

Each day, I hear the crunch of entropy,
The universe disassembles.
My car, okay, not new,
But newer than me.
A gearbox.

A drive shaft.
Universal joint.
Universal.
Entropy.

Four-wheel-drive.
But sometimes none.
Or one.

It churns,
Steadfastly,
mud.

Drive shaft.
Centre differential?
Hm.

Entropy.

And below my hearing range,
Rust.
Degrades.
Slowly.
Shiny steel
To
Red powder.

So close, the mysteries of the universe,
Displayed in this
Universal joint.




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3 comments:

  1. that's pretty spiritual man...

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  2. it's quite wonderful to watch words burble to your surface - as you often keep them intact and hidden.

    spiritual? hmmm .....
    humourous? maybe, if you're a landrover freak (hee. hee.)
    bittersweet i say -

    but this mule does tend to have her gloomy moments: especially when bombarded by frantic chikkin's, missing ganders and lurkaging lurkers all blundering about!

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