Epilogue, November 2008

- Patere legem, quam ipse tulisti

Whoa boy,
That was quite a dustup.
Quite a spill,
Quite a, pardon,
A fuckup.

And we see you hobble and totter
Back to the ranch in the dust.
What isn’t burned is getting hotter,
Crooked or covered in rust.

Whoa boy,
That was quite a dustup.
Quite a spill,
Quite a, pardon,
A fuckup.

In water and ash, a turbidity;
Some trees only sprout with a fire.
For tinder, mix greed and stupidity,
And nothing throws sparks like a liar.