plough the muck and murk, dear carp
run the rivulet
lesser goddess, why antagonise the bank?
why consistently shuffle the little ones?
mourn for the straight line
no running as the crow flies
I witness the orange amongst your damp greys and black
I shall harness you
we shall harness you, us pallid few
and we shall carve our own story upon your silty shallows
we shall finger in intrigue and subliminal data
wash that away, what we inscribe into marble
for you are the goddess of ALL time
and we are only seeking three score and ten