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The levin-irked aether.

"Be merry, ye rich fiends! Piety's dead,
And left the world a legacy to you.
Under the green-sod are your coffins packed,
So thick they break each other. The day's come
When scarce a lover, for his maiden's hair,
Can pluck a stalk whose rose draws not its hue
Out of a hate-filled heart. Nature's polluted,
There's man in every secret corner of her,
Doing damned wicked deeds. Thou art old, world,
A hoary atheistic murderous star..."

—Beddoes

"It’s like paddy chayefsky was granted a vision of america in 2025 and he furiously tried to turn what he saw into something intelligible to viewers in the 1970s."

"a statue of Lenin at Goff's on Lovers Lane"

the one we all must mourn
shrivels on the vine
the things for which we pine
yelp in the dark, forlorn

the flag we used to hail
asks us instread to Heil
as bright-eyed goons defile
& cynical bets prevail

the jockeying begins
for who will be top dog
the candidates have fins
& hurtle with ceaseless flog

Secret Third Thing.