All Romes Lead to the Road

Good night and thank you for listening, All Romes lead to the road, Common language somehow upsetting, The balance and the wind shuffle;

Good night and early morning travels Vaguely saying the measures of mile Twisting haphazardly with Meter, Rhyme And dusty Feet marching route-step;

In cadence, exercise! I hate you and You hate me! Dirty, stinking privates Won't brush their teeth! Laughing at The patience of the Grand Narcissist;

Good night and say goodbye to games Played on the playa with the Devil Bending his knee to publicly pray and Say: "Have a blessed day." As you vomit;

Good night and listen for the vomitorium To hand over fist fulls of fools feeling Frothy fantastic fetes for fabricated Nonsensual desires landing in tepid waters;

Over the river and through the woods With difficult breathing and difficult Breathing for fantastic difficult roads And difficult breathing with difficult breathing;

All roads Roman and one man knows That roads and roads and roads and roads All Romes end up as roads and roads Pass through without ever saying goodbye.

Commentary:

"All Romes Lead to the Road" is a poem written by A.B. Nuttall on 2018116-0156 EST (-5 GMT). All Romes are fantastic cities that eventually become bypasses for the marching elite or the poor foot soldiers who follow them. This is pessimistic. On the other hand, the sinister one, this is just a truth that the fantasy is a driven one that copies many others. It is impermanent and it will end.