Spinning down the drain,
The falcon cannot hear the falconer,
Probably because its ears are full of water.
The sink falls apart
(Including the center of the sink).
Somehow, this leads to anarchy.
But then again, it's mere anarchy.
Nothing too catastrophic,
Like the descent of a society into lawless disorder or something.
But not so mere that there isn't a whole ocean of blood out there!
Which drowns a ceremony of innocence.
However that works. Talk about mixed metaphors.
This all ties into the Dunning-Kruger effect.
This seems like a good time for Jesus to show up again.
As if on cue,
Some kind of sphingian Antichrist appears.
I hate it when that happens.
I can't decide if that sounds more like a blues musician, an exercise routine, or a kind of roast.
The buzzards are understandably indignant
That something uglier than them
Has insolently come into existence.
Anyway, we set off too many IEDs in the Middle East
And now this thing is gonna Godzilla the Holy Land.
Great work as always, humanity.
Actually, this poem was written in 1919,
So it probably wasn't about that.
Good thing nothing else terrible happened
In the decades following the Great War.