The pizza crust is marbled doughy pink, As children pull blue cotton from a stick. The barkers try to make a luring link, As we walk through the teeming taunt and trick.
Stuffed parents hold the trinkets and the toys, As music plays and silly puppets dance.
Out on a stage, a little further down, A man hammers a nail into his head. But I think were all standing here outside. At first, our well-chosen words fly Fleshed out and winged with all intent, Sent towards the goal, hopeful That they will arrive and accomplish. From the mind-fields of memory Up through the neural haze. But during flight, while we yet believe They are somehow stripped Of any self they may have worn Taking on the sound of brittle information.