(questioning the role of catastrophists)
Lost in the night the shoe went flying, carried by a shrill laugh and scream
gone is the connection far away is the time
With it go the stories of its conception, stitched onto its sole is a tale of torment
from a distant land the world seems unreal.
Tumbling now in slow motion it seems, the tale will continue here
The stitches removed, torn asunder, assembling once again
to fly, encircling inevitable woe
to tumble again, again just so.