Wheels whirled with wind
A tautological irreverent churning
The zzzzz like so many flies
Rushing towards an abandoned
Garbage heap-

A forgotten fae mound
of sullied dreams
And Discarded life
Like so many rotting bags
At the end of the promenade

The sun began to sink
into the opposing coast
Spraying madly at the eastern enemy
In a psychedelic regurgitation
Of vio-peach-turq
That splattered graffitic against the pier

Crashing against the encroaching foam
Harsher now in conquest
Than the softness it belied-
The great vociferous maw of the voiden churned ocean
Tangled in the spokes of the mechanical mercurial mass
That dripped across a canvas
Drowning in the approach
Of the old order of Chaos.