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Tilt-A-Whirl
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Stream of Consciousness Winter comes and goes leaving mists and too much bitter frost on the windows
Spring sighs in and runs away, and little tiny Autumn peeks from behind curtains of falling leaves
Summer jumps around like the day is hopscotch and lolipops.
Climate Change is a tilt-a-whirl tossing the seasons about as they scream
To go higher and faster or are sick into little bags that lined with wax to stop the leaking.
All us little ants scream or deny the tiltawhirl is even happening
Do what little we can to stop a clock bigger than our great pyramids
So arrogant the ants are, pretending we control anything past ourselves
And even then, only half the time, if we're very very lucky
The polar bears are drowning but the news exclaims who's gay
And guess which one gets more hits on a webpage
Because the insects we are don't care about the beatles upstream
Or even hear as Spring barfs into the bag and summer chants for the ride to go faster.
