I met men
All in groups of ten
And each group similarly dressed then
Talking jovially
About the weather and their dresses
And even their wives
And as if this life was nothing but joy
They went into the buildings
At the entrance they were checked for weapons
And were always found to be with none
This check for weapon seem to thrill them to no end
Later to their wives they would relate
About the check point, the crucial check point
“Dear, do I look that threatin'?”
“You no angel of god”
And other enter still other buildings
Riding the escalator or climbing the smooth stairs
And they would stare at mirrors
Chat about the sucking politicians
“God see them” was constantly heard
Aloft atop
They all seem to enter at the same point and leave at the same point
And I once asked them why they were going in circles
“Cycles?”
“Circles!” I reiterated
And they gave me blank looks
Tittered deliriously and bellowed:
“We are moving forward!”
And, who could argue with that.
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