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Society Bifurcates

Subcultures have contained group consciousness
Somewhat like baskets contain raffled fish
Groups short one would be short two for stress
Gamblers choosing winners for the great dish

Filled with numbers larger than anyone
Might or could even have in those good times
Remembered by the lore beneath their sun
When the roosters greet with their vocal chymes

As eyelids grope to glimpse new lights of day
Whose shadows fall between sparse hillside trees
Listening for wind born sounds bound to sway
If their meaning could be caught by the breeze

Filtered by illusions tracing feeling
Describing attitudes by vibrations
Encountered during actions once reeling
From reels of longborn red hesitations

International socialist projects
Lie in wait like granite on some hillside
There when fate by action simply selects
That rocks will fall and mud will just landslide

One day things can seem to too quickly leave
Looking out without specific focus
Mountains can crumble from some random cleave
Displaying their once hidden sub-locus

07:12 PM 5/5/03