ply into the void
Gone are those Golden chariot ed days,
When seasons failed not, when Sky
merged with The Blue and pots did not
often come to the streets aligned
with morbid drought piercing hot.
Giant lorries laden with cans,
brittle plastic bottles tied up
to a knot circling boxes;
Speed past the jammed crowd,
VIPs throbbing with angst of thirst;
Thirst for seats in colleges, clerical
Posts in offices, secure seats in podium,
A card game before them, dipping life
Into a chance of luck, catch and throw.
Automated signal is the same for all.
Summer’s heat with a nudge,
driving people crazy with a force
of opening refrigerator, duel lordship;
ruling monster and luxurious slave
in every household with cubes of ice.
Still a Victorious pot in corner
Jeer at the machines, when power fails!
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