This poem is a reflection on the inextricable link between means and ends, and the devastatingly common mistake of de-linking means ands ends producing an endless array of “means” and “ends”. The short game often shorts us; though I recognize this might me a wedgie issue between us.
Sure Fire Means and Ends
If you don’t believe
In means and ends
You will
Guarantee
More means
More ends
Bequeathing
Muddled morals
In the meddle
Of won
Garbled order
After an other
Putting into commotion
The golf between
Riot and wrong
Of coarse
Extremely calculated
Buy establishment figures
Those know stranger
With brandishing
Exclusive clubs
In roll meant
Inter-generational fewed
And what remains
Without doubt
Such weighs and means
Shepherding ewe and me
Subject to that eminent fracas
For the hole population
Doggedly loosing
That won
Last gasp
Inspiring expirations
Arising out
Of now to kingdom come
