Rabble
Content, am I, within my own thoughts now,
Amongst the rabble and theories of how,
The visions of sports do not penetrate,
Nor do the rumm'ling voices of debate,
Catching but snippets that pass without note,
On the surface, these topics are remote,
Turning about one another as swill,
From the ales and spirits, their bellies, fill,
Alas, a break, where the music enters,
Moving away from the steady centers,
And my mind topples atop with the head,
Tipping it back, forgetting what was said,
Perhaps by choice or the subtle refrain,
Drowning the rabble twice ever again.
Invino Veritas
2/14/17
EOF
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