the rains
came fast
and hot.
washing all
our dreams
tangled
on the ends
of their
pitiful
little ropes,
swaying from
the belabored
boughs.

the winds
rattled the
splintered
rafters in
the washed
out belfry.
tolling faintly,
the bell
for all
our wicked
imbecility.
and our
mesmerized
benefaction
fooled by
our own
gadgetry.