DALI’S clocks told the tale
Of time’s dreamlike movement,
So this machine; man’s’ invention
Shows how far we have come to be stopped.
Progress capped by the scale
Of our under achievement
At the limits it seems of convention
The pictures we’d make have been cropped.
We cannot journey on
Because we do not understand satisfaction.
We cannot rest or contend with
A natural path towards calm.
All we have left is to fold
At the coming days and their pressures
At a surreal time in our failing;
Exhibit A in Trump and Un’s fever
And their twin radiations
That make the nuclear melt appear warm.
David Erdos 18/4/17