Why am I suspended?
Why cannot I register?

Is there a god
Who keeps the scroll,
Marks the toll,
Those who move and matter,
Those who drift and die?

Function is all that occupies,
Stultifies…

Watch me work
The mechanical steps
Taps on a stage
No time for rage
Just tap and age.

If only I could identify it
Then I would rectify it
Moving towards it
In it
Costless
Meaning great meanings but
The day to day
In its way
Is all there is.

Functions functions never matter but those who do it flatter flatter
Creating values so perverse
Or even worse
Counting down
Til darkness squelches
Earth worm belches
Ending thus all of us,
Those of us who function function.

One two three
Four five six.

Auction—
All the well-dressed men and ladies
Watch the calling, falling hammer
Too polite to object or halt it
Never sweat, never stammer
Falling falling goddamned hammer
Rat-a-tat its final song of
Going going going gone.

[ending couplet follows]

RIP the very essential me,
Too caught up to ever stop and be.